The Welcome Wagon

Y’all deserve anything but a brief update. We DID end up making it out of New Hampshire on May 12th, and the usual 4-hour drive lasted about eight. Believe me, it was the Fajita van moving slow–we dawdled on the NH back roads and took our sweet time with a two-and-a-half hour sublime trip into the Portland Whole Foods. Donna and I were in awe at how surreal the experience felt: Gabe outside a hospital? Choosing foodz at deh hot tray counta? Whhaaaaatt?

Fitting right into the fruit section, then demanding all the latkes in the house

Yes, fun was had. We pushed on to Brewer, Maine, passing the time with music and reading “Marley and Me” out loud. We got in to Brewer Rehab around 8.30pm and Mike the Dad awaited us, having seen to Gabe’s proper accommodations and his needs being met on that first night. Donna and I drove the Fajita van 16 miles to the house in Winterport, and promptly, passed out.

Pray tell, what has elapsed in the last five, six weeks since our arrival?

Gabe is where he was born, bred, and schooled, in the greater Bangor area of Maine. His family is close by and chooses to see him when they wish, & his friends from college & before visit when they can.

Gabe playing a board game, Labyrinth, with his sis & me.Working in his elevated garden built by Donna and a neighbor.

His stay at Brewer Rehab has no end date at this time. He could be there two more months, or maybe four or seven. His stay was supposed to be short, so new “furniture” for the house, like a bed and shower bench, could be tracked down; but the purpose shifted when we looked seriously at the therapy time and quality available in an home environment vs. a rehab center. He’s receiving four hours of dedicated rehab each day at Brewer Rehab, something he just wouldn’t get at home when he needs it the most. This is like pumping iron at the gym for three hours, then being quizzed on your mental agility for an hour after that. We would like him to stay on here until he can reach some pretty lofty goals: walk, talk, and do some activities independently.

If you follow him on Facebook, you’ve read his testaments. His speaking is coming along incredibly well—he’s moving from 2-3 word phrases to sentences. It doesn’t sound like much maybe since the last update, but there’s a lot of coordination going on that he’s succeeding at, and it’s rather remarkable he’s come this far this early in the game. A specialist speech pathologist visited Gabe almost two weeks ago to determine whether or not he needs an augmentative communication device, a piece of technology that would do the talking for him by pressing icons. The specialist explained that if he did have one, it would be used short-term, and he might as well use his iPad in that case; he also mentioned that G has a hard time starting and stopping saying some words with particular letters (i.e. “five” becomes “five-ah”), which is due to an unconnected auditory feedback loop. There are several factors at play here: his brain forming messages, their relay down to his mouth, his lungs welling up with air to speak on exhale, the vocal chords transforming the message into voice, and his lips and tongue giving the voice shape and texture through consonant and vowel. The coordination of air and voice is a step behind his brain’s messages and the words forming on his lips. It’s kind of like getting bad cell phone reception and you can hear yourself speak. Annoying. But this auditory feedback loop is expected to close as his vocal chords becomes stretched out. They’re so tight right now his pitch sounds like an octave higher than mine. Though to his credit, he’s learned a sweet, little trick to touch right behind his Adam’s apple and his voice drops to his previous tone. In the last few days especially he doesn’t even need the trick to have a deeper voice.

We’re beginning to use this new voice out on the town. The beautiful thing about Brewer Rehab is that he can leave on day trips, and in the next month or so we’ll start doing overnights to his parents’ place, a.k.a. his childhood home. Every Sunday he goes home for the day, and we’ve had a family-and-friends BBQ and Father’s Day bash.

Welcome Home BBQ / Nomming the BBQ goods (click here for more pics)

During a recent outside doc visit, he blew off lunch at the facility for ice coffee and a vegetable-mozzarella panini in the local downtown Bangor coffee shop. He takes trips over to his dad’s boot shop, the local grocery store, and a coupla weeks ago we got a crew together and stormed Dysart’s—THE ultimate trucker stop with full-serve restaurant. He ordered the Paul Bunyan Maine Blueberry Pancake Platter with the waitress, his voice rising above the din of the Satuday night crowd. These outings sound mellow for you and me, but Gabe describes his injury as “moving in slow motion,” so the lights, crowd, product selection, and bad music of even the nearby dollar store is an Event. He’s got to practice looking again, practice hearing and smelling again; he’s got to practice making choices to all that he perceives in an environment wider than the hospital grounds he was confined to for nine solid months.

His muscle strength has gained in the last two months as well. Though his left side is still very weak, his arm and leg are improving his body mechanics. He needs less assistance to stand up, to get into bed, to sit. He still needs help, but his progress is encouraging and his therapists have positive expectations. Speaking of, can I just set the record straight for anyone out there who thinks Maine is the sticks and lacking in effective therapists? The team he has here is high caliber and there isn’t one weak link in speech, occupational, or physical therapy. Our general reaction is, “Damn!” if one of them is gone on vacation.

Gabe sits for 20 minutes unassisted & without correction. Landmark.

There’s more to report, and I have some good stories to share. More to post next week. His fam and I are adjusting just fine. I’m sure it’s very restorative for Mike and Summer to have Gabe nearby, but I’ll let them speak to that! Donna fell back into step quickly once home, picking up her cello once again and heading back to the Neighbor’s Cupboard, a low-income food pantry. I’m in a whole new world, but it’s cool and pretty and adventurous as I try to find my feet. Now I’m off to a bike tour in Nova Scotia, so seriously, stories for you next week on the Gabe front.

Much love,

-Kierie.