Week 2

The day I began the program I was greeted with the news that my dad, who recently broke his right arm just below the shoulder, fell and broke his hip. This was definitely very bad news, and I think the whole family thought this could well be the end of the road for him. I wasn't able to visit him till late in the week and that visit only confirmed my early impression that the outcome looked bad. He was disoriented and struggled to focus his mind. The effort appeared so intense that it almost made me weep. With his accountant brain the one thing he tried to manage was his intake of medication, and while I was there he seemed quite agitated that his cardiologist (who, by the way, is a wonderful doctor and human being) wasn't certain of what he had prescribed.

Beyond his considerable efforts to keep track of the pills he had swallowed, the only other subject Dad raised was whether Jake Heaps would start at QB for BYU. This, mind you, when Dad was of the frame of mind that his time was very short, like maybe a few days. Focused on survival, his only distraction was thoughts of the direction of a college football team.

On Sunday afternoon, about 9 days after my first visit, Tauni and I showed up in the Rehab Unit to visit Dad and see with our own eyes how he was doing. The transformation seemed nothing short of a miracle. He was dressed, seated in a wheelchair, seemingly without pain, and smiling. Still not up for a lot of conversation, but totally alert and, with his relentless focus, daily measuring his progress and making plans to return home.

Not to overlook my sisters, but my brothers are both saints. Doctor brother Tracy, who has an extraordinarily demanding and stressful job tending ICU patients, has been on call for family afflictions seemingly forever. And he has heroically managed Dad's admissions for his multiple fractures and assorted surgeries. He has been willing to call in prescriptions day or night and has consulted with us all endlessly.

Though Dad's improvement has been remarkable, it was evident by the end of his first week of rehab that upon discharge he would be nowhere near normal strength and that he and Mom could not manage without live in care. Another fall would be a disaster. On my first visit, when I asked what I could do to help, Dad asked that I pray that he never fall again.

So into this situation comes Ron, who happened to be visiting from his home in Vancouver, WA, with wife Karen at the time of Dad's fall. Because of Dad's frail condition Ron and Karen stuck around for over a week longer than planned. On Friday evening, about 11 days after Dad's fall, Ron told me went to bed with a prayer that he could find a solution for Dad's care needs. He woke the next morning with his answer. He would do it. He asked Karen if she agreed. She did.

Later that day Ron told Tracy, Mom and Dad of his decision. They all burst into tears, overjoyed. Ron and Karen plan to move into Mom's and Dad's basement around the first of October and remain up to a year, though they hope to be able to return to their home in the spring.

The whole family is thrilled. Ron is wonderful with Dad, and is in his way a remarkably kind and effective caregiver. Personally, I not only am thankful that Ron and Karen will be there to care for Mom and Dad but also that his presence here will allow us to spend more time together. Seems as thought we've gotten closer than ever, and it is a joy to be around him.

These events overshadow anything that took place during my personal workouts and diet last week. I finished the week feeling sore and injured but surprisingly Monday morning felt strong and healed. At weigh in I was told I had released 10 pounds during my first two weeks. That's probably a bit overstated since the first weigh in was in the evening with clothes and the second in shorts and t-shirt after a morning workout. Still, I probably shed a good 7 pounds, which is a nice start.