Yesterday and today have been pretty good days for Larry, and therefore for me as well.

I was able to spend about an hour with his OT yesterday, who was kind enough to give me some hands-on instruction on how to do the therapy on Larry's "dead" right side. It's interesting how different it is to watch vs. to do. I thought I could copy what the therapist was doing, but when I actually tried it I was doing it all wrong. He was very patient and walked me through it step by step. I felt like I did a lot better after his help. He also told me something that seems obvious but which I hadn't thought of - that it's important to tell Larry what I'm going to do before I do it - to say, for example, that "I'm going to raise your arm now, can you help me do that?", instead of just grabbing his arm and lifing it up. No wonder he has not been cooperating with me; I wouldn't like it much either if someone just started doing things to me without any explanation.

Larry is making progress on some of his physical challenges. He's able to put on a T-shirt by himself if you just hand it to him. It takes about 5 minutes, but so what? I was really surprised that he could do that. He is also able to brush his teeth on his own. The OT at the nursing home is doing a good job and seems to have built up a rapport with Larry, moreso than the PT at the acute facility.

Still no change in his cognition or speech, but he does seem to understand most of what is going on around him. I hope that the words will come in time, and for now I am trying to be patient. His brother David came by to visit today; they've had their ups and downs and it's not the best relationship, but I think Larry was happy to see him. I took out the white board and asked Larry to show David how he can write letters, and Larry apparently did not feel like being a trained seal; I handed him the board and he took it and carefully made two dots on it, then gave me a big fake smile to tell me how disgusted he was with that idea. I guess I deserved that one!

I came home and painted Larry's new room for a couple of hours. I don't think I missed my calling as a house painter, but it's good therapeutic work. The rest of the house is going to look terrible once that room is done, but making a nice space for him helps me to feel useful, and in control of something. After that I walked Tweet (the cockatiel, who likes to sit on my shoulder as I walk through the neighborhood - we are big hit with all the kids). Life is a long way from normal, but I haven't been melting down as much, and no Xanax for the last few days. I still have a lot of anxiety, but things are slowly getting a little better, just as everyone has told me they would.

-Janine