Growing and Growing

… show there is a small hematoma on the right side of the brain. RehabTeam is locating all of the CTScans from the first day to determine whether this represents new bleeding or trauma, or whether it is part of the old injury.

The plan is continue monitoring Dad all night and continue neurological testing ( … like at the TraumaCondo … trauma unit … ) every two hours. Please pray.

Let’s regroup in the morning.

It’s 9:56pm. Giving you an update now is similar to telling you about how well the stock market did this morning even though you know that it closed 700 points down when the bell rang. In Dad’s case, it is reporting that he got some rest last night, made some great improvements this morning, but ended up closing 700 points down at the end of the day.

The good news:

• Dad met with S-Therapy today and passed two “blue” tests: (1) blue ice test; (2) blue water test. The first test was to chew some blue ice. If the coloring leaked into his LungRobot tube, then it is a sign that the throat is not ready for food and drink. Second test is the same, but Dad drinks blue water. Dad passed both tests!
• Because he passed both tests, S-Therapy did some speech testing. You heard the results from that test this morning.
• Dr. Rehab 1.0 reported that Dad’s lungs continue to sound “clearer” — LungJunk is beginning to clear up!
• Mom bonded with a few new caregivers last night and today: Technician TooTallToo, with whom Mom fought about the height of Dad’s bed; Technician FunkyGlasses, who carefully cleaned Dad’s body; Nurse Preacher’sKid, who loved on Mom all day, held her hand during the afternoon trauma, and walked with me to CTScans; and R-Therapist Huggs, who just gave Mom hugs.

The not-so-good news:

• At 2:31pm today, Dad tried to walk … by himself … while asleep.
• At 2:32pm today, Dad failed in his attempt to walk … by himself … while asleep.

[Note: Like the circumstances surrounding the original accident, ViolentSilence, we really don't know what happened this afternoon. We can only speculate that Dad flipped his legs over the bed and fell to the ground. When asked by CaveBear whether he was pain, Dad shook his head, "No." When asked by CaveBear whether he was trying to talk a walk, dad nodded his head, "Yes." Again, we don't know ... ]

More questions than answers right now. Dad appears to be resting, while we wait for the RehabTeam to take him for a head CTScan. The best we can surmise is that he threw his legs over the side of the bed ( … more than likely to go for a walk … aggressive fellow … ) and he fell. Dad does not appear to have any visible injuries right now, but we don’t know about any new internal bleeding or broken bones or re-broken bones. Dr. Rehab ordered the new scan and now we wait. And wait.

Update (5:31pm): We took a ride ( … actually a ride for him and a walk for me … ) to get the scan. We are back at the room, settled in bed ( … actually in bed for him and in a chair for me …), and waiting for results.

… to please pray … Dad fell out of the bed a few minutes ago … they are assessing his condition … please do not call Mom right now (as she is very upset) … we will let you know … thanks

Self (me): … in the middle of a deposition … Yes, I had to put on a suit today!

You: … supposed to be working, but surfing G&G …

Mom: … sitting with her hubby of 42 years …

CaveBear (my brother): … texting me the following message …

Dad just said “HI’ to mom. And he just said “I LOVE YOU” OUT LOUD.

Whoa!?!?!?!?

… but he has been quarantined … well, kinda.

In Leviticus 13, isolation was a remedy for leprosy for God’s people. A priestly dude would look for signs of yuck on the people’s skin or their clothes, which would mean they were NotClean. Upon the priestly dude’s announcement, the NotClean would be removed from the community: “He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.” (Leviticus 13:46). Although Dad is not NotClean ( … that’s a double negative … interpreted as “Dad’s no leper” …), there are some precautions to visiting him.

That’s right, you can (AND SHOULD) now visit Dad (and Mom) at TheSelect, a/k/a, Select Specialty Hospital, 2021 Church Street, Nashville, TN 37203. It is at the corner of 20th Street and Hayes (between Church and West End). Since I am known as the disciplinarian at home, I will take that burden here as well. The ground rules for your visit are:

1. No plants, flowers, balloons … all due to the controlled air environment and LungRobot … Sorry Botanists, Florists and Clowns!
2. No wee-ones or sickies. That means if you are even thinking about sneezing or coughing, please be like Leviticus 13:46 and stay at your camp until you are better.
3. If you are sicker than Dad, we will come to see you.

Once you get there, go to Fifth Floor, Room 5509 at the the end of the hall by the Nurse’s Station … Mom/CaveBear/Self should be there. If not, there is a family waiting room to the right.

[Note: I'm no grumpy. Just trying to protect Dad's recovery with the above rules. Although she would never ask for it, Mom would like some company ... even if you can stop for a few minutes ... go grab lunch or dinner with Mom ... or just pull her downstairs for a walk around the block ... She could really use the support. Thanks! ]

If you are “Rooting for Ray” … then send us your pic. Today’s FeaturedFoto is from Mr. and Mrs. BeenThere/DoneThat in St. Peters, Missouri.

That’s right! CaveBear came from MSP to BNA via NWA! Did you get that? In other words, for the abbreviation-impaired, my brother Chris came from Minneapolis to Nashville today by Northwest Airlines. He’s here to take a little bit of the stress for the next couple of days. [ ... Thanks SisterFargo for loaning him to Mom again! ... ]

“It’s 3:30pm and there still are no updates on Pastor Ray’s condition,” you say.

“It’s Sunday … you should be spending time with your family and kids,” I say.

World, here’s something to ponder while I type up this afternoon’s medical update:

“My problem with life is not that it is rational or irrational … but that it is almost rational.” (G.K. Chesterton).