Life in the Rehab

So Tim was home from the hospital now for several months.  Pretty good for a guy that for all intent and purpose shouldn't have survived.  He was talking, although not too good, but clearer than before.  He could stand and they were trying to get him to walk a few steps.  He was starting to feel like he was making progress.  But progress has its downfall, Tim had another blood clot in his leg.  When he left the hospital in May, they removed the filter that would catch any clots that might break loose and discontinued his blood thinners.  Now he had another blood clot exactly in the same place in his leg that he had initially.  An overnight stay in the hospital on Lovanox injections and a new regime on blood thinners fixed that problem.  He would have to remain on the blood thinners for the rest of his life now.  Such is the reality of such a catastrophic injury. 

Tim continued with life at the rehab.  It was so difficult for him and me.  I was back to work as much as I could work.  Every morning I would take him to day rehab, settle him in there and then go to work.  By 3:00 pm I would leave work to go pick him up.  Tim would never drive again, so I knew this was my fate.  Where ever he needed to go, I took him.  The Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago is a huge conglomerate of facilities.  There is the main hospital in downtown Chicago and many out patient facilities city and suburb wide.  We have been to several.  Certain doctors have their specialty and we needed to go to where they were located.  

This routine continued until January of 2007.  At this point, Tim was suffering so much pain in his leg, it almost became unbearable for him.  Any progress that he had been making was coming to a halt.  Physical therapy became almost impossible.  After a visit to his orthopedic surgeon in February, it was decided that he would need to go back and have surgery to fuse his ankle.  His stint at the day rehab was coming to an end.  Which actually made him very happy as he absolutely hated going there. (I thought it was a good thing that he was there trying to get better.  He thought I was taking him there just so I could go to work.  Such is the thought process of someone who has suffered a traumatic brain injury.  Sometimes it gets a little skewed.)  Although, after all the time he spent there, I was actually very upset because they told me that he was as good as he was going to get, he probably would never walk again and not to get my hopes up of him getting any better.  So it was just a fine send off.  Tim happy to leave and me, totally weepy eyed.

However, this was the point that my husband woke up once again!  This time he felt like he had a bit more control over what was going to happen with him.  (A bit of a learning curve for me...I was making the decisions for him from the time he was admitted into the hospital to the time he came home.  He was coming around now and he wanted to have input into what was going to happen to him.)  So, he went in for the surgery on his ankle.  They fused it, put a cast on it and he needed to stay off of it for eight weeks.  OK...piece of cake!  Eight weeks past, cast came off and now he could step on it.  Miraculously, half of the pain was gone!   My husband found his determination once again. So, this time with a plan in place to make a shoe with a built up heal to make up for the discrepancy in the length of his leg and to accommodate the angle his foot was now in due to the ankle fusion, back to rehab he went.  The first shoe did not turn out as planned, so we tried again.  I took Tim to a New Balance store to find him a comfortable gym shoe.  When we found the one he liked, we had the heal of the shoe built up.  A lot of hit and miss with this one, but it is the same shoe that he continues to wear to this day.  When one wears out, we just have new ones made up!  This time rehab was a bit more successful.  By the time we finished this stint, Tim was able to walk a few steps with a walker.  His doctor then decided a few steps were good, but he would need gait training.  This pleased my husband as now that he could walk a few steps with a walker, he wanted to be able to walk more steps but using a cane.  So he continued at this RIC facility from June through November of 2007.  In December of 2007, I took Tim for an evaluation at a rehab facility closer to our home near Northwest Community Hospital.  This is the facility that made the difference in our lives.

Routine, Routine, Routine

My husband and I started to get into our routine, which is the first word in the vocabulary of someone who has suffered a traumatic brain injury.  His room on the first floor was not ready yet.  Plans were drawn up and we were awaiting the approval of the permits.  So we were using the family room as a bedroom.  I had purchased an adjustable bed for Tim.  This really helped him with his mobility issues.  I also purchased a very nice leather recliner.  It took a lot of thought process to buy both. The bed and chair needed to be a certain height, since Tim had a problem bending and sitting.  The chair could not be rocking and it needed to have arms sturdy enough for him to be able to push off of in order to stand.  I took my father in law to the store to test out all the chairs.  We did find one that was just perfect.  So much so, that my father in law bought one for himself!  There was not enough room in the family room for the bed and furniture, so one of the love seats had to go.  I slept on the other one.  In fact much of our furniture had to be removed and rearranged to make room for my husband to use his wheelchair.  

Every morning we got up, me first at 5:30 am, so I could get dressed before Tim.  (I still do to this day.)  Then I got him up and dressed and off to rehab.  We continued this until our routine was established.  The next monkey wrench tossed into this mix was me starting back to work.  It was now mid July and I had not been to work since February.  After I dropped Tim off, I would go into work for a few hours a couple of days just to get used to it again.  However, I couldn't do a whole lot yet.  Not only did he have to go to therapy, but he had doctor appointments and was still being treated for the ulcer on the back of his ankle.   Not to mention the fact that when he was home, he could not be alone.  So if I wasn't there, I had to arrange for someone to be there with him.  My kids and in laws took turns.

For the first few months home, sleeping in the family room was not always great.  Tim would get up several times a night, confused about where he was.  Sleeping on the couch was horrendous.  (When his bedroom was finally finished, I threw out the couch!)  Going to work was not easy.  In fact, I really didn't know how I would be able to continue.  I tried as best as I could, but it became pretty evident that I could not continue in the position that I held prior to my husband's accident.  On the day of training, my boss pulled me aside and said that my co-worker and I were going to switch positions.  As good as everyone was to me at work in allowing me to take such an extended leave of absence, my mind was not yet into my job.  So I knew this was the right thing to do at this time.  My husband still had way to much going on for me to try and devote time to being in charge at work.  So I kind of took a back seat there and devoted much of my time to caring for my husband.  

I really needed to stick to our established routine.  Anything out of the ordinary could potentially cause problems.  Not physical, but mental similar to the "meltdowns" we experienced when my husband was still in the hospital. Over stimulation was another problem. We really had to watch that we didn't tire him out or watch too many action packed movies. These would put him over the edge.  Lights bothered him too. Just another hazard of a TBI.  So our family room needed to be darker that I really preferred.  

As happy as we were to have Tim home from the hospital.  It opened up a whole new can of worms.  But we did make it to September!  It had been four months since my husband came home from the hospital.  What a learning process for me, for him and the rest of our family. Our garage was cleared to be turned into a bedroom.  We were surviving.  We had our routine down.  What could possibly go wrong!

In Memory of our Cat

Just a little side note from my husband's story... After living with us for 15 years, our pet cat Sandy has died.  She was old (80 in cat years) and she was sick.  We took her to the vet and they ran blood tests, took an  x-ray and gave her an IV fluids and antibiotics.  I took her home and continued giving her fluids, sat up with her all night and took her back to the vet the next morning to continue the IV.  Then I received the call a few hours later that she was dying.  By the time I got back to the vet, she was gone.  

When I arrived, they quickly ushered me into the examining room, where I sat for several minutes alone.  Eventually the poor intern vet came in and told me.  I don't know what happened to me then, except I started to sob uncontrollably.

I just don't know what came over me.  I am usually a very level headed person, very realistic about everything and definitely not a crier.  I managed to get through probably the worst episode in my entire life, when my husband was so severely injured in his car crash so stoically.  I held up so I could keep everyone else together.  And here I sat in the vet's office crying my eyes out over our poor cat.  It only got worse.  The vet asked if I wanted to see her, I sobbed harder.  She then asked if I wanted her paw print impression.  That one did me in.  I could not even talk by this time.  I sobbed and shook my head no and just asked for the bill and her carrier and a few minutes to compose myself so I could drive home.  I felt so sorry for the young vet.  I am sure they deal with this all the time, but she just stood there not knowing what to say as I cried.    

Perhaps it was just a culmination of things.  Perhaps everything over the course of the last 5 years just came to a head in the vet's office.  I'm not sure, but I over it now. The day was just a sad one.  She had a good long life with us and will be missed.  

Rehab Begins

So after three months in the hospital, we were home!  Now the total test of my wits was going to begin.  While in the hospital, my husband was safe and sound.  He had people around him attentive to his every need.  But home was home and it was just me doing it all.

We had the week end to adjust to being home.  My husband got a chance to do nothing but rest for the first time in months.  However, come Monday morning, the next phase would begin.  I had to have him at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago by 9:00 am.  We got there and the receptionist was less than friendly.  (My husband and I would joke about that in the months to come.)  They took all our information and Tim was ready to begin.  He met all his therapists, we got the tour of the facility and received all our instructions.  For a facility that deals with people who have experienced neurological injuries, I have to say they were not exactly warm and fuzzy.  It is kind of odd as we have been to a number of the RIC facilities and only one of them really stands out in my mind as having good customer service.  But I suppose it is not about how nice they are, it is really about how good of care my husband would receive.  (Although, I would have liked a little of both.  Maybe it was just the mother hen in me!)

If I could back track a moment, I should have realized that things might not be all peachy keen once he started this out patient care.  The last week my husband was still in the hospital, the social worker was making arrangements with this RIC facility.  She told me that someone would contact me and come out to talk to us at the hospital.  Now I was at the hospital every day from sunrise to midnight.  My husband was napping one afternoon and I stepped out of his room and walked to the family waiting room for a moment to make a phone call.  When I returned I found a folder with papers in it about RIC.  My husband told me that someone was there and left it.  He did not know who she was or why she was there.  I stopped at the nursing station (which was directly outside my husband's room) to ask who it was.  They thought that it was a representative from RIC.  So I called them immediately and asked who was there and why she did not call me so I could be in the room.  Now I realize that my husband was a 49 year old man at the time.  However, he had suffered a massive TBI with complete memory loss and speech impairment.  You would think that instead of just wandering into his room, she would have called ahead so someone would be there with him.

Anyway, Tim was assigned a primary physical therapist to monitor all his care.  Within one week she was gone and a new one was assigned.  At this point, things got markedly better.  Several new therapists were brought in and things started to really improve.  I guess all it took was a change in management!

So for the first few weeks, Tim would go to therapy from 9:00 to noon.  They then convinced him that he needed to stay all day.  It took a lot of convincing for him to finally agree.  He now had to bring a lunch with him and any medications that he needed to take during the day.  This was going to be interesting because, he had no idea when he was supposed to take any of his medication or what they were for.  The facility said they could not give it to him.  He needed to be responsible for his own things.  Not so easy for someone with a brain injury.  I now had to come up with food he could easily eat one handed and drinks that he could open on his own.  I put his medication in a small envelope, packed it in his lunch and instructed him to take it when he unpacked his lunch to eat.  When we arrived in the morning, I would go with him to the kitchen and he would put his lunch in a specific place in the refrigerator so he would remember where it was and could reach it.  It always had to be in a paper bag, so when he finished eating, he could just throw it all away.

In the beginning, I stayed with him and just waited out in the lobby.  When he started to go all day, it was soon apparent that they really needed him to concentrate and I was becoming a distraction.  So I would bring him in the morning, stay for a little while and then come back later in the day.  This seemed to work out well as he was getting used to the routine.  The work was very, very difficult.  His communication skills were just starting to come back, but extreme pain persisted and fatigue was the worst.  His first month home was less than stellar.

Release Me...

Well it was late May.  It has been three agonizing, sometimes grueling months.  We were in the home stretch.  Arrangements were being made so I could finally bring my husband home!

In the hospital, we reviewed all the necessary things needed to bring Tim home.  We went over medications that he needed to be on, equipment that he needed to bring home, nurse visits, doctor appointments, physical therapy, speech therapy and  the layout of our house.  I was going to be his caretaker, so I needed to also be instructed on what my duties would be.

On the home front, we only had one bathroom and shower on the first floor.  It was not a very big one.  My husband's wheel chair would not fit through the doorway.  So we practiced before he left the hospital, how he would have to walk into the bathroom.  I had to remove the doors from the shower, hang a shower curtain to replace the doors and we bought a shower chair to fit into the stall.  It would prove to be very tricky once we got home because, Tim could slowly walk through the bathroom to the shower, but he could not step into the shower due to the ridge on the bottom where the doors fit into it and the spasticity in his right leg and not being able to bend his knee.  So he would walk in and turn around when he got to the stall.  I would jump into the stall behind him and the chair and he would fall backwards slowly into my arms and I would guide him to the chair.  He could then lift his left foot over the ridge and I would lift his right foot over and place it in the shower on the floor.  Talk about the trust issue.  There was no question about it.  He put all his faith in me, that I would not drop him and I never did.

Where to sleep was next.  All our bedrooms were upstairs.  I had started a plan to turn our garage into a bedroom on the first floor.  However, it would not be ready for some time.  So when Tim came home, we put a bed in our family room and a room divider up to give him some privacy.  I placed a commode next to the bed as using the toilet in the downstairs bathroom was too difficult.  A handicapped accessible bathroom was going to be built in his room.  For now these arrangements would have to work and they did for the next nine months.

Our floors were all hardwood.  So maneuvering around in a wheel chair would not be difficult.  A ramp with a deck was built next to the back door.  I could easily get him in and out of the house.  I gave my son several pieces of our furniture to make room through out our house.  I moved the dining room into the living room.  Then dumped the living room furniture.  I turned the dining room into a computer room.  My daughter moved into my upstairs bedroom, I moved my stuff into one of our smaller rooms, which did not matter because for the next year I slept on the couch in the family room to be near my husband.

Plans were made for him to attend day rehab at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago.  At first they wanted him to attend all day from 9:00 am to 3:30 pm.  I denied it at first.  My husband had not been home for three months.  He was so tired and confused and needed to become adjusted to being in a new environment first.  So we arranged for him to start out with half day sessions and then build up to a full day with a nap.  By starting him out slowly this way, he was eventually able to be successful.

The day was finally here!  He had such a difficult time getting into the car that we owned, so we decided to ask my father in law to drive him home from the hospital as his car was much more rommier.  When we arrived to our street, it was lined up and down with police officers from all over as well as the bagpipe band that my husband had played with.  The band met us at the end of the block and as we turned onto our street, they marched and played him to our door.  It was the most spectacular welcome home I have ever seen.  All his fellow police officers streamed into our house one by one to shake his hand.  By the time it was over, my husband was totally exhausted.  But he was home!  A whole new part of his life was now going to begin.  But for this moment, all he wanted to do was get into his new bed in the family room and go to sleep.

Home on the Horizon

Every week at the hospital on a designated day, my husband’s team would meet.  This included his doctor, his nurse, the speech therapist, the occupational therapist, the physical therapist, the social worker and me.  We all squeezed into one little room and everyone would give their opinion as to how my husband was progressing for a designated period of 20 minutes.  They would go around the table and everyone would have their say.  It was in these meetings that I think the group, especially his nurse, finally came to respect me. 

Tim was relearning how to do everything.  I was learning how to get him there!  At these meetings we went over his whole plan of care and then they taught me how to put everything we talked about to use.  I am a quick learner.  Even if I wasn’t, I had to be now.  We were getting close to having Tim come home.  He couldn’t come home until they were sure I could care for him.  So I made sure I knew how.  I know all these people had many years of schooling in their professions.  I felt like I got the crash course! 

Everything we do we learned when we were young.  You learned how to put your clothes on, go to the bathroom, brush your teeth and comb your hair.  Piece of cake when you are a kid.  Not so, when you are an adult, who is now one handed and cannot bend forward to put on your shoes, let alone tie them.  My husband was not proud.  We worked as a team.  We do the same even today.

The quicker we got it down, the faster his time was to coming home.  At this point we were 2 weeks away!  After the weekly meeting, it was decided that he would be allowed to have a pass to come home on the weekend for 1 day to see how it would go. As it happened, my middle son was graduating from college.  The graduation ceremony was to be at the UIC Pavilion in Chicago.  We decided that since my in laws had a larger car and were better familiar with the area, they would drive.  The graduation was wonderful.  However, we did not realize that there would be literally thousands of people there.  Not so good for someone recovering from a TBI amongst other things.  Well, my husband was a trooper.  He really wanted to see our son graduate.  So the minute he walked across that stage and got his diploma, that was it, we were out of there!  He was able to come home for a while and then I had to have him back to the hospital. 

The nurses always used to wonder why they never heard my husband ever ask to go home the whole time he was on the rehab unit.  It was because he could not remember what or where his home was.  After this little excursion, he wanted to go home more than anything.  He still had to stay in the hospital for a little while more.  But the following weekend, he got another chance to come home for several hours again on Sunday.  This was a much more peaceful trip.  The drive home was like going down memory lane for him.  Bits and pieces of memories were popping into his brain as we drove.  This was the final test.  It went so well that once I took him back to the hospital, we started to make the final preparations for his release.

Continued excerpts from the SICU....

2/19/06

Tim and family,

I stopped by to see how you were doing.  I was on the call on the 15th and everyone on the fire department is concerned for you.  It is nice to see that you are stable and doing as well as can be expected.  You are in our thoughts and prayers and we hope you have a quick recovery.   M.R.

Good morning Tim,

I've been here since around 8 am but am only now writing something because I don't know what to say, really.  You know what?   I still don't know what I should write, at least I haven't anything profound to say and I guess I wish I did....

I feel numb inside and probably will until you finally walk out of here and you will walk out of here, of that I have no doubt!  

You were the first officer I rode with when I was first hired and before I went to the academy.  I know you won't remember, but I never will forget.  It was in May, 1989, evening shift and it was a beautiful day, sunny and warm.  I was extremely nervous and tried to converse with you, but ended up only talking to myself because you weren't talkative at all.  I think you said two words (max!) to me all night!

Knowing what I know now, you were ticked being forced to drive around some rookie (who wasn't even a rookie yet!) and  that is a very disruptive thing to have to happen to us!  We like our privacy and our routine!

Anyway, the first thing we did was check your businesses along NW Highway.  I think to shut me up you made a traffic stop behind the bowling alley.  I was like "this is so awesome!"  But you made me stay in the squad.  You were even more crabby after that!  Ha ha ha...In fact you dropped me off at the station a short time after that.  Ha ha ha...
Believe it or not I have always looked up to you since this first meeting.  You have always been the cop and the person I wish I could be more like.  You've always been there for me when I needed help and you've never spoken ill of me my entire time at the PD.  (And as you know, that is a rare quality to be found in anyone in this business!)  You're a good person and thank you.  I'm praying hard for  you and your family.  God Bless!  T.K.

More Reflections...continued 2/19/06

Say Tim,
Most of our shift stopped by this morning and met your wonderful family.  I was especially honored since I've heard so much about them from you, but I never had the pleasure of meeting them.  Maryann is such a positive lady and managed to laughingly share stories about you even through these difficult times.  I hope you regain your ability to come to work soon as I know you will.  The 1102 beat is not the same anymore since you've been away on your forced vacation.  It was good knowing you would always be working that beat especially since we are on the same RDO's.  I just want to let you know that my family holds you and yours in our prayers.  A speedy recovery to you my friend and God Bless!  Beat 1100, B.U.

Tim,
Stopped  by today with the rest of midnights.  I know you are worried about all the kids hanging out at the Wendy's on Rand Road.  Don't..... I'll take care of it.  I know you are a closet NASCAR fan, so I'll be sure to save the newspaper clippings so you will know who won the Daytona 500 today.  Just remember NASCAR fans don't try to crash their cars on purpose.  Get better soon.  I don't think we can keep the north side under control with out ya!  J.B.

Tim,
Just want you to know that I miss having you behind me every night in roll call.  The Cubs are starting up now so get excited! (Ha ha ha)  My family is here for you and are praying for your family. R.C.

Hi Tim,
Yeah, what they all said!  Just wanted you to know you're in the thoughts and prayers of me and my family.  I just got back to mids, and after 2 days, I miss having you on our shift.  You are a "glue" guy.  The kind that holds a shift together.  I hope you recover quickly and fully.  I know after 20 + years, it might be tempting to just run out the clock, but we want you back shifted up with us.  J.S.

Hey Tim,
Well it's been several days now and the news is you're doing remarkably better.  They attribute that to the incredible shape you are in.  I have stopped by a couple times and sat with your family.  You have wonderful children.  We have been talking with them about school and they are incredibly smart.  You and Maryann should be very proud.  The men and women who love you keep on stopping by.  The foot traffic never stops.  They keep on coming and praying and bringing donuts and bagels.
The PD has been busy.  This last half week we have had several major incidents occur.  They announced the new commanders and unofficially, where they are all being transfered to.  I worked a double yesterday.  The phone never stops ringing on day shift.  Almost every call was inquiring about you and wishing you well and offering to help in anyway.  Politicians, cops, citizens, firemen, PW people, business owners and many more call everyday.  Everyone wants to "circle the wagons" around you and your family.  It's truly amazing how many people know you and those that don't still offer prayers and help.
You are going to have to pick out a new favorite squad car. Yours is broke and beyond repair (by a little).  I know  you liked the old computer too and rumor has it CIB is going to be experimenting with new squad laptops.  I hope they work.  We are keeping your beat covered for you too.  The guys want to work in it while you're gone.  It's like an honor to them.
The weather has been Siberian like.  It was -11 on the bank clock at 3 AM on the 18th.  Wind chill was -37.  It's cold out.  The White Sox are making some changes.  Too many to list here.  The South Side World Champs will be starting spring training soon.  Go White Sox!  I think you'll be waking up soon to watch the games.  Sleep and rest well.  We are willing to help and do whatever it takes to get you home soon.  M.K.

This was 4 days after my husband's crash and people keep streaming in and talking and writing.  It's funny how much you learn about someone you have lived with for so long by getting a glimpse into his other life.  The life he went to on the job every night, working with the men and women on his department.  As my husband lay in a coma fighting for his life, we all got to see a whole different side of him.  It was pretty amazing!  To be continued tomorrow.