Buck woke me up early today with head shaking. He needed out and I needed coffee. We rolled out of here and headed down Oak to the Pete's Cynthia showed me. Had to tie him up on a pole with his retractable leash. I was wishing for my old leash that had a snap loop on the end.
Bought a pound of Major Dickensen's beans, a large black coffee and a scone. Huffed it back home. My legs and lungs are stronger for the hills. Sat at my laptop and went through email and read about the wildfires affecting all the family farmers surrounding the Houston area.
Met Bill at 11am on the corner of Castro and Market and we headed out to the aptly named Fort Funstun. This place with lingering fog is like being on Mt. Olympus. Buck is much better socially understanding that not everyone wants to be humped and politely does the sniff dance. We walked and talked for an hour at least. Bill is a treat of a person with a gentle and comforting energy that gives great conversation. We had some great reminiscing of young Richard, of Patrick, of Dad, of princesses and good food, of Opera, of life....
We went into the Sunset for chinese lunch, down to Jamba Juice where i picked a juice Richard would hate, a donut and back to the car off to Tunnell. If Im driving I need change in my wallet for meters and I am an obsessive change spender, so I need to adjust to that.
Richard was awake and alert. Bill didn't care for his Lo mein so we brought that and I fed him a few fork fulls with a couple shrimp. He said he was full and that he had eaten lunch at the facility. Surprised me. I asked if he had done therapy he said no so I went on my hunt. Turns out not only had he already done both physical and occupational but also speech. She is doing his vocal chants with him. He was noticeably more pronounced is his air movement in his lungs. Left side still lagging.
Hes still enjoying the whimsy of his mind and I want him to stop it and concentrate for 2 weeks on staying in the here and now but I don't say anything.
His eyes are bulging less. His IV was in and dripping and he said he was moving fluids through his body much better.
His speech therapists reports they have moved his to soft food, a step off the cat food. She was trying to encourage me to discuss food with his nurses and I told her I meant no offense but that I would continue to feed him food he would eat regardless of what they wanted because his caloric intake was more important to me and I could see he was able to chew and swallow. I'm not giving him anything without standing next to him.
Bella stops me and I mention the med crushing and that it has made a significant difference and she tried to downplay the impact that had and telling me not to expect to much. I wanted to punch her. I have figured out the game there and I'm the squeaky wheel. The next week I expect to see a significant improvement as he re-hydrates and continues pushing through his therapeutic sessions, especially the vocal chanting.
His roommate is still a prick and I just pretend I don't hear him when he groans at my chatter. Richard rolls his eyes and giggles at me. He told me that a chaplain came in today. I said for what? To give you your last rites? He said no to talk to him - and points tot he curtain with the troll behind it. He said the chaplain then came to him and he said "This is a no chaplain zone". I giggled at him and he was pleased as punch that the man graciously kept moving at this statement. I've named this blog after this event of today. This is quintessential Richard, and I can think of no better title.
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