Happy Thanksgiving

With a title like that, you can guess what this post is about.

It’s 100 days post-accident and boggling to think of where Gabe’s been and where he’s at now. The outlook was so positively bad that there was nothing more to do but throw all hopes in the pot and hold tight to the lid. In this short of time though, he’s overturned professional medical opinion and is defying the odds against his recovery. Part of me says, “Yeah, of course this is where we are today,” while another thinks, Wow, we’ve come soo far.

How do we foresee the future, immediate and distant?  how do we plan to get there? There’s really no way to sketch out a detailed map, and I’m talking map as in what’s going to happen in the next week, next month, next year. I think we each have a different drama unfolding in our minds. But Gabe’s the guide and we’re marking down Points of Interest along the way. For instance, he’s been “drinking” coffee the last two weeks. If any of you ever met up for the morning coffee ride to 9th Street or sat with him outside Gorilla for 2-hour increments or shared a cup of joe with him anywhere else, you know he’s darn pleased to be getting that a.m. jolt. It’s impacted his alertness and participation in speech therapy: his stamina is longer and attention focused to answer cognitive questions in a concentrated 30-minute period, from the relationship between objects and people, to signs coded within language.

Another Landmark is successful sleeping throughout the night and our established morning routine: face wash, teeth brushed, head wash/massage, with a shave every other day, then open up the day planner, look at the calendar, cross off yesterday’s date, and key into where we are (hospital room in California and why we are here). What’s cool about each of these activities is that he’s helping do everything. He’s taking over more, putting fat Xs through the date and pulling the washcloth across his brow. The joy is so sweet when he reaches out to do something himself, initiating on his own without prompt or cue. His endurance is building. G’s been boosted up to a straight hour of physical therapy, which will prep him for the kind of sessions he’ll receive at the acute rehab hospital. And to think he couldn’t push through even half of a 30-minute session six weeks ago!

Some more gloss: for the last couple of weeks, Gabe has been having private phone conversations. Yeah, they’re kind of one-sided so the caller must be armed with stories. His hand poises the phone beside his ear and he listens intently. On a friend’s birthday last week, he mouthed “hi” to her and then, “happy birthday.” Once the speaker is done talking and says goodbye, he passes the phone back. No prompt needed.

Talk about no prompt needed, this past Monday (Day 104) we were hanging out in the OT clinic and Gabe’s eyes widened and he pointed to the stationary hand-cycling machine on the table. After I set it up, he got three full and unassisted revolutions, powered primarily by his right arm. His left arm was in place, but he has more healing to do before he begins moving volitionally. He DOES move his left side, but it’s reflexive—like when he wakes up his fingers stretch out, or his foot flips around when he’s tickled. But it’ll come. We’re sure of it.

Going back to that uncertainty mentioned a coupla paragraphs ago, existing in the unknown is a lot less uninviting when we think about existing in the moment. I think a lot about Donna and me, our togetherness in the daily-evolving scenario of being with Gabe and managing our own trajectories. We have a good home, just two miles up the road from the hospital. Our pantry is well stocked. Yesterday, fresh zucchini bread appeared on the kitchen counter. We have a car, generously lent by the Mowen family, and my bike to get us to and fro. The sweet town we’re in has a great public library. The hospital cafeteria food is actually pretty good. Though Mike and Summer are far away, their fingers are on the pulse and we’re all united on questions or issues.What a gift it is to be accepted by and welcomed by such a great family like the Allens. Every day, friends and strangers send encouraging messages. Many offer up a house, a meal, advice in small and big ways. And as each day passes, Gabe’s communicating more about what he wants, what he needs, and our intuition of those things grow. There’s a freak ton to be thankful for this year.

-Kierie

p.s. here are some fun, outside links for everyone:

• Want to know more about Gabe? Check out the blog he’s had the last few years: www.maddfajita.com
• Interested in what we do aside from kick it wtih G-Star all day? Read this.
• Radio programming to stimulate your brain: www.radiolab.org. We recommend the “Memory,” “Numbers,” and “Laughter” episodes.
• MAIETTA HANDBUILT BICYCLES is raffling off a custom-built bike for Gabe’s flight East.
• Awesome co-op bike shop in SF blogs about Gabe: www.boxdogbikes.com

p.p.s. Here is a picture of Gabe and Donna on Thanksgiving. As you can tell, he’s eyeing the sparkling apple cider. I went into the OT clinic and cleared off the big wood table of its equipment and games; Donna had the bright idea of adding a white “tablecloth.” We all sat together there as the sun streamed in, and dined on our T-giving meal, enjoying each other’s company. Gabe unfortunately wasn’t able to eat with us (remember, he has a trach tube and on a PEG feeding line), but it means he gets double helpings next year.