Too Much for Just 24 Hours
Every so Quite often, everything is happening at once with Ryan’s care. This is the point he is at now as it relates to his therapy and everything else normal (and abnormal) folks do during a day. Allow me to break it down:
- Hyperbaric Oxygen Treatment. He spends 3 hours in effective treatment daily. When you add the time to inflate (15 minutes), deflate (5 minutes), and prep/transfers (10 minutes) this demands roughly four hours of the day.
- Infrared Treatment. He goes under the lamps twice a day for 30 minutes.
- Range-of-motion. A minimum of two hours per day.
- Standing frame. Again, two hours.
- Ultrasound Bone Stimulator. Twenty minutes.
While there are other therapies (e.g., sensation, music, etc) to the above, by my count, those five take over nine hours a day. We keep him up for around fourteen so you can see just how hectic it often becomes. I am as efficient as possible by combining therapies whenever possible. For example, I play music while he is in the HBOT or getting infrared.
One would think having an “extra” five hours is more than enough down time. Well, did I mention he needs fed, bathed, changed, administered medications, oral care, eye care, IBRF teleconferences, food preparation, and being massaged (him, not me) — to name a few. Good news is, without any bumps in the day we can fit it all in. Barely.
Bumps vs. Humps
I’m not talking about the good “bumps” here (reference Black Eyed Peas). Herein is the problem. Every day has its “bumps”. These are usually just things that need tended to like repair calls, insurance/medical billing errors, time in court, deliveries, dog needs, housework, nurses calling out, therapy agencies being jerks, this, that, and the other thing.
There are also good bumps (again, reference Black Eyed Peas), like fundraisers, writing this blog, doctor visits, and events vital to Ryan’s care. These are the bumps that give that fun feeling in your stomach, like when you experience zero-gravity on a roller coaster as you crest a hill at sixty miles per hour. Now that I think about it, maybe I should call those “humps”?
When we finally have Ryan tucked in at the end of the day, I don’t reflect on the the past twenty-four hours. Sure, I’ve tried but it’s just a blur. This is a serious problem for me that I’ve (mostly) remedied with the use of a huge planner. I frequently use this blog to find when something happened (and cower when I reread what I wrote).
Ahhh, the bliss of living in the moment!
Wait… what was I just saying?