I'm No Beethoven, but That Was Quite a Movement

Friday, April 2

10:00 pm

When I woke up today, I felt stronger in both my arms, and I could move the right arm even more than I could yesterday. My feet are both numb from the ankles down, and that’s getting very old. (Thankfully I don’t have a numb skull.) From the ankles up, I have some numbness, but it’s not tingling; it’s just diminished feeling. Normally the hands and arms feel the same, but right now my hands feel more numb than the rest of my arm.

Dr. Davis came in at 6 am as usual. I made more of a connection with him today. When I asked him to call my son-in-law Ben (a fifth-year orthopedic surgery resident), he did so immediately. Then Dr. York, with all the personality of a cardboard box, came in and did his usual check. He reminded me that progress is necessarily slow. I was pleasantly surprised to find out later that Dr. York also called Ben after our morning check-in and spoke with him extensively about my condition.

Breakfast was good. I ate all the eggs. The food in general has been hit-or-miss this week. One night I had steak for dinner that was actually good; another night I had chicken tenders that were inedible.

Lots of people were coming in and helping me out today, and everyone was very nice. A woman named Jill came by this morning to see if we would sign a consent form to be part of a Reeves Foundation study of spinal cord injury patients. Jill spoke with Linda about the study, and I enthusiastically agreed to participate.

After refusing to crack a smile at any of my puns yesterday, my nurse Rose actually laughed at my jokes a couple of times today. I forget the jokes, but the laughs were hard earned. She is very efficient and very good, and I like her, but I think she doesn’t want to get too close.

Besides the pain and muscle spasms that have plagued me this week, I have been extremely irritated by postnasal drip that is causing me to cough and, when I try to sleep, to snore and snort myself awake. It is generally better when I am sitting up at a steeper angle or after I stand during PT sessions, but I am spending most of the day lying on the hospital bed, so it has little chance to clear. A nurse practitioner spoke with me about my snot issue today and followed up later in the day. She suggested that I try using cough drops with menthol to thin the mucus, and if that works I’ll try cough syrup. I think it’s a good idea. Cough drops did seem to help a little today.

After working with the same three PT women every day so far, I had a new group for PT today, except for Nicole, who was the constant. Alice and Jamie joined Nicole, and Lydia was observing. I don’t remember them well; I didn’t have the capacity to make any judgments today. (Christine snarkily points out that this is not true and that I made and voiced lots of judgments today, just not about the PT team.) They got me to a sitting position, which I successfully stayed in on my own. I sat, got re-centered, worked on my balance, and leaned on both arms, which was hard, as I really just wanted to let my arms go. But they were insistent—good taskmasters, as PT should be.

The first time I stood today was without the supportive gait belt. I worked on getting centered, feeling straight. My “straight” was not their straight; I was tilted to the right. I worked on getting my knees straight, hips forward, shoulders back, and weight forward, and I stood for much longer today than I have yet. I stood three separate times and worked on the same balance and centering on each—hips forward, knees straight. I improved each time.

The surprise and difficulty in standing is that each individual aspect of balance and strength has to be thought about consciously. Nothing about it happens intuitively anymore. I have to think about tucking my hips in. I have to think about getting my shoulders down and relaxed. I have to think about leaning forward. I have to think about straightening my knees. And after I’ve thought about each of those, I have to go back to the first one because it’s no longer where it should be. The mental aspect of this is just as exhausting as the physical. I was extremely fatigued by the effort after about 45 minutes, and after PT left I took a nap.

At some point today I got a suppository and had a good bowel movement around 4:30. That’s hard to do in a bedpan, because without the satisfying plop in the toilet it can be difficult to know that you’re done. (Christine tried to spare you that image, but I was insistent this be included.) A little later, head nurse Rita came in and chatted with me. I asked her to get a Q-tip because the eczema in my ear has been bothering me.

“I know you’re never supposed to ask a woman this,” I said to Rita, who looked at me warily, “but I think I’m safe. When are you due?” She laughed and said she’s due May 12. She also has a two-year-old, so I showed her a picture of two-year-old grandson Lee in his jeep bed that I built him and one in his rocking chair, which I also built. Rita told me a little after six that she had a lot of email to do before going home and had to leave. But my dinner had arrived, so she went to go find someone to feed me and said if she couldn’t find anyone she’d do it herself. When she came back, I regretfully informed her that I had involuntarily passed something more than gas. So the table with my dinner was pushed back, and Rita and the tech cleaned me up and changed the bed and got me all set up again (no small ordeal in my current condition). Rita then stayed to feed me despite my protestations that she should find someone else, and I ate everything for dinner—salmon, potatoes, broccoli, and a delightful dessert that was labeled “lemon tart” but tasted like they had forgotten the lemon.

Rita kept chatting and feeding me. Soon thereafter, I had not one but two additional movements. (Here Christine is skipping many details in the dictation. Suffice it to say that Rita is a saint.) Rita stayed through all of it, then stayed through the shift change when Melanie arrived. In all, she had spent more than two hours with me, and she still had emails to do before going home. Everyone around here loves her, and it’s clear why.

My night nurse Melanie has only been a nurse since August. Because of COVID, she had no graduation; it simply ended—“here, you’re a nurse!” Even though she has not been a nurse for long, she completes every task with practiced efficiency and confidence. She is extremely friendly and upbeat and always laughs at my jokes, so I enjoy her company immensely.