One week ago, after forty-nine days in the hospital, Dad came home. I think we all held our breath for a couple of days but everything seems to be falling into place. My mom has great help coming every day. Rose (my mother's brother's wife's sister-not kidding) spends most nights, and Armeda is coming during the day. I don't think they will need help forever, but I think it is making this whole process easier.
Dad is generally in good spirits, but annoyed that he can't be helpful. I have told him a million times that his job is getting better. He faithfully does his exercises but he wants to do more. I can't blame him. We are trying to find things that he can do so that his brain is occupied. It's a fine line to have him do enough that he's distracted but not so much that he's exhausted.
Dad is still trying to wrap his mind around learning to walk again. It seems unreal that you would have to relearn how to do something you have been doing most of your life. I've tried to explain that he has all kinds of new hardware in his legs, so it's going to feel different when he tries to walk(and that's not mentioning his muscle problems). The physical therapist had him stand up with his walker today. He had to have help getting to a standing position but he was able to do it twice.
When I talked to him tonight, he had gotten in bed and his dog was in bed with him. Since Dad has been home, his dog, Pepper, gets in bed every time Dad does. She snuggles right against him and curls up. Yes, the walking is going to be difficult, and yes, the road is going to be long, but man oh man is it good to have him home.