WAKE UP WOO!

As scary as the dent in Trevor's head looks, it's actually a really good sign. It means that most of the swelling from the surgery has gone down. New bone flap replacement is scheduled for March 4th, so mark your calendars!

Catheter and IV's are now out. No more tubes to worry about Trevor pulling out during the wee hours of the night.

He got transfered from the NAC to the Inpatient Medical Rehab unit. Although the interior decorating is awful, the staff here has been great so far. They are actually interested in Trevor and his medical history, which is awesome. He has a one on one CNA (certified nurse assistant) in the room with him 24 hours a day. Huge relief!

According to the doctors, this recovery is going to be full of ups and downs. Today was definitely a down. But we cannot judge his progress based on day-to-day changes. Instead we must look at the improvements from week-to-week. And compared to last week, Trevor is killing it...

Three words to describe Trevor's day (and yesterday for that matter) : restless, uneasy and compulsive. Despite what the picture makes it seem like, he keeps rolling over, grabbing the bed's side rail, feeling the stitches and dent in his head, scratching his junk, rolling back over and repeating. He's been really grumpy and agitated all day. He kept pushing away everything we handed him (iPod, food, milkshake, remote, tray table, water, etc.). He threw the pillows that were protecting his head off the bed. He threw his helmet when we told him his friends wanted to take him on a wheelchair ride. He pushed us away when we tried to go near him, and even made a fist and punched Walker at one point. I think he got his hopes up while we were transferring floors, thinking that we were leaving for good. I'm praying, for all of our sanity, that this impatience is from lack of sleep and is not going to be a permanent thing.

Speech therapist came in today. The first thing the dude did was get right in Trevor's face and speak gibberish to see his reaction. Trevor responded very clearly, "Whaaat?," which is great news. Then he told Trevor to repeat after him, "Ahhhhh." Trevor did, but I'm not convinced that actually means anything. Whenever Trevor doesn't understand what someone is saying to him, that is exactly how he reacts. So I'm pretty sure he wasn't repeating the therapist, he just didn't get it. The therapist then held up a paper towel close to his face and showed Trevor how to blow and make it move. Then he held it up to Trevor's face and told him to blow. Trevor grabbed it and tried to wipe his mouth. The therapist told him to blow again and this time he tried to eat it. Overall, this visit from the speech therapist... FAIL.

To be quite frank, I'm really not sure if Trevor understands anything at this point. As proof of this, here is a quote from my mom: "I have a dog back home in Michigan... When she needs to go out, she stands in the foyer, opens her eyes really wide and stares at me. She doesn't bark or scratch at the door. She just stands, stares and waits for me to figure out what she wants. This is exactly like the conversations Trevor has with me. I don't have confidence that his "nopes" really mean nope or his "yeps" really mean yep. The most active time is when his meal tray arrives and I hand him a spoonful of puréed food. He can't scoop the food from a dish but he can get the spoon to his mouth." Sad and blunt, but true.

The doctors are really persistent on drugging Trevor up to fix all of his problems. They want to give him pills for sleeping, pills for stimulating him during therapy and also pills for regulating his blood pressure. My mom and Walker told the doctor that they would feel more comfortable trying without medication first. Dr. Speed got a little pissed. He asked if they understood that this recovery will be different than the last. My mom asked him if that was a serious question and gave him a dirty look. I know being a doctor is simply practicing medicine, but it seems like Trevor being on that many different drugs is just overkill and could potentially backfire.

Dr. Ericson helped explain to us what this right-sided neglect actually means. Basically, Trevor's brain and right side are simply not communicating. The connection isn't severed; they just aren't communicating. His reflexes and leg tremors on his right side make sense for his injury. The leg tremors occur when the tendon is stretched. His head will continue to try and make that connection and communicate with his limbs. Recreational and physical therapy will help with this.

Oh, one last thing. Some elevator etiquette: Wait until the people in the elevator get out before getting in. I mean, c'mon, it just makes sense!