December 17th
Dear All
Today Greg went for his first walk! Already! Only a couple of days ago he couldn’t stay awake for more than a minute at a time. He walked all the way to the Christmas tree (perhaps 25 feet?) and back this morning. This afternoon he made it to the end of the hall (twice as far) and back. Of course both walks exhausted him and he slept for a very long time after each. A big accomplishment.
This morning the neurosurgeon explained to Greg that going to Briançon is only to teach him how to walk again (due to deafness in one ear etc such patients need to relearn balance, equilibrium). Physio for his face will occur in another place called Voiron. So if Greg is actually able to walk in a manner that satisfies the doctors before the Briançon departure date, then he needn’t go there at all, let alone for two weeks! I’m fairly sure this lies behind Greg’s determination to walk the second time, to reach out and touch the fire extinguisher like it was a goal post.
When I walked in today Greg greeted me with a verbal beginning of a list of things for his father to do once he arrived. Definitely another good sign that, fragile as he yet is, and unable to make simple decisions most of the time, at other times his brain is ticking incredibly into action. Apparently he also told the head neurosurgeon that he should fire his students, because they couldn’t name a certain neck muscle. The surgeon had to explain to his students that this was an example of British humour.
Greg also ate a little food today. He hates that he can’t taste anything right now – hopefully this won’t take too long to return, as it lessens his desire to face the challenge of eating (and with putting up with my rustic feeding techniques). His nausea is significantly less.
The welfare officer from Greg’s work, Isabelle, rang today. She is the angel who, between midnight and 2:30 am, was the translating go-between on the phones so I could figure out what was going on with the operation and helped enable my 2:30 am visit. She wanted Greg to know that at the ESRF Christmas party many many people were asking after him and wishing him well. She said that it is amazing that Greg has been at the ESRF such a short amount of time and yet so many people already know his laugh and smile.
Greg is still the only patient in his room, which is a gift – not only for privacy and peace, but it also makes many daily tasks much easier when one merely has to shut the door for privacy.
Greg’s temperature still vacillates a fair bit – much of the day I am wiping his face with either a warm or a cold cloth, depending. Oh yes, and he had to bear with me attempting to brush his teeth today. “Is that really how you brush your own teeth?!” he asked in semi-horror. “No, remember I have an electric toothbrush!” Another skill needing fine-tuning.
As we prepared to leave tonight Greg said, “you’d better fill up the tank tonight, as tomorrow is Sunday and gas stations will be closed.” Gosh! The man vacillates between not being able to listen, let alone speak, to shocking moments of brain in overdrive! And he would not let off in his concern that I would get the French word for petrol – gas – and for diesel mixed up until I managed to come up with an alliteration - that pacified him: “gazol guzzler”.
Greg has yet to sleep longer than 2 hrs at a time. I thought that he might manage more in the late afternoon today – but he kept on waking up with bad dreams. For those of you who do pray, please pray for some restful and good sleep.
I laughed at him today when he kept on trying to make me sit down while washing and massaging him. He found it hard to accept that it was ok for me to stand sometimes. I told him that we have a big learning curve ahead of us: each learning when to rest, and each learning when to let the other work, when to say stop and when not to. Some things fall into easy divisions of tasks: for example, he uses his strength to open the new bottle of water, I use my stability to pour the water into a smaller container with a straw for him to drink. Team-work. I think our future will be even more shaped by it than our past has been. Learning to anticipate, to receive, to be wise in our own choice of action and non-action for the sake of the other as much as for oneself. This is what it means to be in relationship, is it not?
Christmas is a good time to think of such things as Greg and I were reminded by the latest Wim Wenders (Don’t Come Knocking), none of us live in isolation of others, even if we try. Relationality is an integral aspect of our humanity. As painful as it can be at times it is a gift. So, with thanks for the relations we have with each of you, may they be far or near – love, Kirstin.
Today Greg went for his first walk! Already! Only a couple of days ago he couldn’t stay awake for more than a minute at a time. He walked all the way to the Christmas tree (perhaps 25 feet?) and back this morning. This afternoon he made it to the end of the hall (twice as far) and back. Of course both walks exhausted him and he slept for a very long time after each. A big accomplishment.
This morning the neurosurgeon explained to Greg that going to Briançon is only to teach him how to walk again (due to deafness in one ear etc such patients need to relearn balance, equilibrium). Physio for his face will occur in another place called Voiron. So if Greg is actually able to walk in a manner that satisfies the doctors before the Briançon departure date, then he needn’t go there at all, let alone for two weeks! I’m fairly sure this lies behind Greg’s determination to walk the second time, to reach out and touch the fire extinguisher like it was a goal post.
When I walked in today Greg greeted me with a verbal beginning of a list of things for his father to do once he arrived. Definitely another good sign that, fragile as he yet is, and unable to make simple decisions most of the time, at other times his brain is ticking incredibly into action. Apparently he also told the head neurosurgeon that he should fire his students, because they couldn’t name a certain neck muscle. The surgeon had to explain to his students that this was an example of British humour.
Greg also ate a little food today. He hates that he can’t taste anything right now – hopefully this won’t take too long to return, as it lessens his desire to face the challenge of eating (and with putting up with my rustic feeding techniques). His nausea is significantly less.
The welfare officer from Greg’s work, Isabelle, rang today. She is the angel who, between midnight and 2:30 am, was the translating go-between on the phones so I could figure out what was going on with the operation and helped enable my 2:30 am visit. She wanted Greg to know that at the ESRF Christmas party many many people were asking after him and wishing him well. She said that it is amazing that Greg has been at the ESRF such a short amount of time and yet so many people already know his laugh and smile.
Greg is still the only patient in his room, which is a gift – not only for privacy and peace, but it also makes many daily tasks much easier when one merely has to shut the door for privacy.
Greg’s temperature still vacillates a fair bit – much of the day I am wiping his face with either a warm or a cold cloth, depending. Oh yes, and he had to bear with me attempting to brush his teeth today. “Is that really how you brush your own teeth?!” he asked in semi-horror. “No, remember I have an electric toothbrush!” Another skill needing fine-tuning.
As we prepared to leave tonight Greg said, “you’d better fill up the tank tonight, as tomorrow is Sunday and gas stations will be closed.” Gosh! The man vacillates between not being able to listen, let alone speak, to shocking moments of brain in overdrive! And he would not let off in his concern that I would get the French word for petrol – gas – and for diesel mixed up until I managed to come up with an alliteration - that pacified him: “gazol guzzler”.
Greg has yet to sleep longer than 2 hrs at a time. I thought that he might manage more in the late afternoon today – but he kept on waking up with bad dreams. For those of you who do pray, please pray for some restful and good sleep.
I laughed at him today when he kept on trying to make me sit down while washing and massaging him. He found it hard to accept that it was ok for me to stand sometimes. I told him that we have a big learning curve ahead of us: each learning when to rest, and each learning when to let the other work, when to say stop and when not to. Some things fall into easy divisions of tasks: for example, he uses his strength to open the new bottle of water, I use my stability to pour the water into a smaller container with a straw for him to drink. Team-work. I think our future will be even more shaped by it than our past has been. Learning to anticipate, to receive, to be wise in our own choice of action and non-action for the sake of the other as much as for oneself. This is what it means to be in relationship, is it not?
Christmas is a good time to think of such things as Greg and I were reminded by the latest Wim Wenders (Don’t Come Knocking), none of us live in isolation of others, even if we try. Relationality is an integral aspect of our humanity. As painful as it can be at times it is a gift. So, with thanks for the relations we have with each of you, may they be far or near – love, Kirstin.
posted by Kirstin Jeffrey Johnson | 12:36 am
1 Comments:
Hi Kirstin,
Please send my love and best wishes to Greg. The two of you are constantly in my thoughts and I hope that Greg's already great progress continues in the days and weeks ahead.
With love
Tim
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