This afternoon, The home care lady from the NSRC called me at work. She has been starting the legwork on setting up home care for you. Thankfully, there appears to be no substantial waitlist. Eventually, we can even do ‘self managed homecare’ which sounds like a better option for you.
With this program we would hire a personal care worker, make a work schedule and write a job description. We might even have access to some MSI funds to do some of this. She should have more information by the fourth of March, which still gives us three weeks to get something in place.
When I got home today, there were two surprises waiting for me. A package from the sister of your old friend, Donald. Ruth sent a package to the children too. Animal fact sheets with a note about her memories growing up with her brother in Amherst many years ago. The children were quite excited. Tara and Quinn wasted no time organizing the fact sheets.
My package had a letter, an apron with the word ‘Hope’ written all over it and a note for you about ‘Hope’. The card said:
“Of all forces that make for a better world, none is so powerful as hope. With hope, one can think, one can work, one can dream. If you have hope, you have everything.”
Lately, I have been so bogged down with the details I have forgotten the big picture. I had forgotten the word that started this marathon. HOPE. I promised myself that I would not forget again.
The second surprise was a phone message. Dr Mendez’s secretary called. She was asked to call to get your mother’s phone number! Dr Mendez received her letter. When I told her later in the evening, she squealed with excitement. She has been feeling overwhelmed by everything that surrounds you. Now she is able to do something … anything that could make a difference. I am excited for her. More HOPE.
Today you were measured of a wheel chair. Your OT is identifying the features your wheelchair needs. She had said to me at the family meeting that it would be a basic wheelchair. But today, you have been left with the impression that it will be quite special and expensive.
I’m glad that I’ll be there on Monday. I need better details.
Last night I emailed an old friend of ours. Sue. She is a vet who I worked with in Ottawa where we first met. She is an amazing athlete. She is possibly a little over five feet tall and barely 100 pounds. She is a runner … a serious runner … a crazy runner by most people’s estimation. She is an ultra-marathoner.
Lately, I have been thinking that my analogy to a marathon was wrong. This journey seems more like an ultra-marathon to me. When I thought of this … I thought of Sue. Sue sends us Christmas cards every year. I never got around to sending cards this year. She did not know of your stroke. So I thought that I would contact her and ask if she could call you this weekend.
I kicked myself that I wasn’t leaving much time for her to get the email from her work’s website. I should have done this earlier. I needn’t have worried. Sue called you tonight, shortly before I called you. You had a great talk with her about running and 12 step programs.
After your talk with Sue, you said to me “Maybe I was meant to do something big – like ultra marathons. I am still a runner … I just have to keep running.
You have always enjoyed a phrase you overheard your father say once. “Suck it through and re-load.” You had the impression this was his attempt at not swearing while being very frustrated.
The real meaning is starting to come clear. “Suck it though and re-load.”
For me it means “Get past things and move on.”
For you it means “I am still a runner.”
For both of us it means HOPE.