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Page 75



y father was released from Yale New Haven Hospital on a warm, mid-May morning and came home to Milford. He was happy, feeling good about having beaten the odds to come home after nine weeks on the cancer ward.

His happiness soon turned to dismay. His muscles had atrophied from nine weeks in his hospital bed. He had lost almost half his body weight, dropping from 165 to 95 pounds. He was unable to walk, and when he tried to feed himself, the metal spoon quivered in his hand and slipped from his grip.

We had to develop a new way of functioning for the unaccustomed circumstances. A hospital bed was set up in the living room. When I was upstairs, I monitored his sounds with an intercom.

Whatever the initial inconveniences and awkwardness of his rehabilitation, however, it was an enormous blessing for him to be home.

A physical therapist arrived the second morning he was home. She explained to him how she would help him learn to walk again and regain normal functioning. A light went on in my father. He had found a challenge to test himself against. His mood improved.

And, in fact, with the help of his therapist, he did learn to walk again and made great progress toward regular functioning. I came downstairs early one morning, two-and-a-half weeks later, and found him eating sunny-side-over eggs that he had cooked for himself. I was amazed, because, up until that time, he hadn't walked alone by himself. I will never forget the look of triumph in his eyes, as he sat eating at the kitchen table.

It was necessary to keep him on his schedule of medications and monitor his temperature. Dr. Millis had warned me that if his temperature rose to above 101 degrees for more than two hours, he would have to return to the hospital.

He had progressed to the point where, the night before Father's Day in mid-June, he was able to ascend the stairs and sleep upstairs for the first time since he had been home.

The next day, Father's Day, was a warm blustery day. His friend of over 35 years, Herman Scott, came over in late morning. My father talked to him about his recovery and caught up on news. They had an enjoyable visit.

But after his friend left, the worst occurred.

His temperature rose above 101 degrees. By mid-afternoon, when it was tested a second time, it was 103.5 degrees.

He had to go back to the hospital.



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