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tinhuvielLlew had a stroke this morning. He's in room 822 at Spartanburg Regional Hospital awaiting an MRI and getting some sleep in preparation for tomorrow's speech therapy and occupational therapy. The stroke was very mild and you really can't tell that he's had a stroke at all unless you hear him try to talk: it's a slurred mumble that's absolutely incoherent. All day I made him repeat himself until he could be understood. It pissed him off, but it gave him good practice and helped to develop his speaking ability. I told him that he'd probably end up hating me for my constant harassment, but he'll end up appreciating my efforts. When Llew's nurse came in and explained what the speech therapist would be doing and gave him an example of the therapy, Llew gave me the hairy eyeball because that's exactly what I'd been doing to him all day long.
I have the feeling that Llew's prognosis will be carrying maximum positivity and minimum distress. The distress will be mine. I'm not a caregiver, but here I am preparing to help Aunt Tudi with her hand surgery on Monday and Llew to recover from his stroke which was caused by the high blood pressure that he failed to treat. AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH! I need a new life, one that insures my loved ones glow with unending health and utter joy. That would be dandy fer shure.
Anyway, if you want to send Llew a cheer card (or anything at all), and I really hope that you would, considering he has few friends and his family sucks big hairy rhino balls, you can go here and be a lovely human being.
You must use his entire name and room number in order to properly send the e-card. His name is Lewis Boyd and he's in room number 822. So, as Ben Stiller says as one of his scary characters in Starsky and Hutch, DO IT. And do it now. Dammit.
As for me, I'm horrified by the entire situation and I want to flatten myself out and crawl under the rug in the living room and remain there until I'm stomped on until I'm spread out like a crepe....or a creep....you decide. Oh Goddess! I'm so tired and distressed and sad, I can't even sufficiently express myself. What else could possibly happen this year? Maybe I shouldn't even ask such a question. I'm just setting myself up. Oy.
**erm.....I actually started this post yesterday, but it took me a thousand years to write it. Now, today is yesterday because I'm stupid.
I have the feeling that Llew's prognosis will be carrying maximum positivity and minimum distress. The distress will be mine. I'm not a caregiver, but here I am preparing to help Aunt Tudi with her hand surgery on Monday and Llew to recover from his stroke which was caused by the high blood pressure that he failed to treat. AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH! I need a new life, one that insures my loved ones glow with unending health and utter joy. That would be dandy fer shure.
Anyway, if you want to send Llew a cheer card (or anything at all), and I really hope that you would, considering he has few friends and his family sucks big hairy rhino balls, you can go here and be a lovely human being.
You must use his entire name and room number in order to properly send the e-card. His name is Lewis Boyd and he's in room number 822. So, as Ben Stiller says as one of his scary characters in Starsky and Hutch, DO IT. And do it now. Dammit.
As for me, I'm horrified by the entire situation and I want to flatten myself out and crawl under the rug in the living room and remain there until I'm stomped on until I'm spread out like a crepe....or a creep....you decide. Oh Goddess! I'm so tired and distressed and sad, I can't even sufficiently express myself. What else could possibly happen this year? Maybe I shouldn't even ask such a question. I'm just setting myself up. Oy.
**erm.....I actually started this post yesterday, but it took me a thousand years to write it. Now, today is yesterday because I'm stupid.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-06 09:25 am (UTC)Meow