The Art of Healing

Healing is a wonderful thing.

Healing means Mom has energy during the day, and then rests with that sigh-filled, "I worked hard today!" way in late afternoon and at night.  It means she participates in fun conversations as the result of great speech therapy (and let's not overlook a natural chattiness), and can now walk the entire nursing ward with her standup-and-lean walker.  It means there is more getting things right and feeling successful about herself.

Healing means becoming more mobile.  Today it meant she got her very own wheelchair, instead of a loaner from the hospital. The new wheelchair is everything you'd expect my Dad would order. Fancy removable big back wheels, flick and remove leg rests, one button touch slide out arm rests, a folding back.  Who even knew wheelchairs came with such add on features! It's new, with shiny parts covered in bubble wrap, and it's just super cool. 

Healing requires patience, and this is a hard test sometimes. Today brought wound-dressing change day. Ugh.  The wound on mom's upper left chest is healing, but it is a traumatically slow process, with daily or bi-daily dressing changes required, depending on the goop factor that day.  The medihoney that has been used has done a good job, but we're switching to a "salt impregnated microfine gauze" that will absorb goop and not add to drainage.  Seems logical.  What seems like a better idea is always using plenty of lidocaine to numb up the wound prior to repacking and covering it, and even best, having 2 Tylenol and a cold drink right afterwards.  The wound nurse does a very careful job, but Mom must feel the level of pain similar to having a wisdom tooth pulled with only light local anesthesia, from what her reaction is every time.  It's getting better, but this will be a long healing process.

Healing happens faster when you're comfortable.  One of the bright spots in Mom's day is her favorite tech Michelle.  Like I've posted before, there are some people who are just in the right job.  Michelle is one of them. She is very tall, strong, confident, unafraid to share her opinion, and she puts Mom right at ease. She can help Mom with anything, particularly transferring from bed to chair and back, with professionalism and a smile. Every single time. 

Healing means you start to enjoy normal activities, like cooking!  Today in occupational therapy, Mom made some fudge in a ziplock bag, by combining powdered sugar, cream cheese, peanut butter, hot cocoa mix, butter, and squeezing.  Out comes a soft and delicious Reeses-type fudge!  Yum and fun.  It's just great when she comes back from that session, proud to have done something productive! Nothing quite beats winning the painted pot in bingo, though. That was definitely a highlight!

Healing means everyone's emotions are back in check.  Sliding slowly back to acceptable stress levels, they can be quick to flare still, the bursts are coming less frequently, and there's more often a sense of calm (normality?) than not.  Or almost-a-calm.  Rather than worrying about the next beeping alarm in the ICU, or a change of the dreaded wound vac, or about not being able to remember grandkids' names, we are thinking of what to have for dinner, what shirts to buy at Target, and what card to pick out for a friend's daughter. We have all had our moments of gut wrenching fear but feel we're done with that.  It's better now.

Healing is helped by love. Dr. Oz said last night on NY Med (something in the content of) he won't operate on a patient unless they have someone to live for, someone they love, because the body heals best when love is present. Through Mom's family and friends, there is much love. Always evident, but never more so than the last 5 months and 1 day that she has been hospitalized, in rehab, or in a nursing care facility.   So many days away from home, from her friends, her flowers, her kitchen, her wine.... Your love has helped get her succesfully through this ordeal and Mom and all of us are grateful.

Healing is truly a wonderful thing.