Moving to Santa Clara

This afternoon, Kevin is moving to Santa Clara Valley’s Acute Rehab Hospital. We’ve been told that the transportation to and from Stanford every weekday will be smooth and as fast as possible. Supposedly, Kevin will not have to wait around for hours after radiation just to be transported back to Santa Clara.

The rest of us are gearing up for meeting a new set of nurses and therapists and learning the ins and outs of a new hospital. Frankly, we’re excited that we will no longer be the “bad guys” in Kevin’s eyes. With the increased therapy at Santa Clara, we won’t have to be the ones to suggest that Kevin do more exercises or sit in a chair for dinner—activities he really doesn’t want to do, but will do grudgingly if we catch him at a good moment. At Santa Clara, the therapists will probably be the ones, instead of us, who call the shots and tell him what to do. He might also be more willing to do what professional therapists ask of him.

It’s amazing to watch doctors’ and therapists’ reactions here at Stanford as they say goodbye to Kevin. As they give him one last examination, they realize how far Kevin has come since he was in the ICU at the beginning of January. To us, and especially to Kevin, his improvement has been painstakingly slow. A big improvement from one week to the next is something as small as being able to slowly straighten his left arm. With improvements this small, it’s hard for those of us who are with him several hours each day to notice them. However, the doctors who come in once every couple days are blown away by his progress. Some are positively giddy at how far Kevin has come; they react as if Kevin is one of the fastest-recovering patients they’ve ever seen. Maybe they react this way to bolster Kevin’s spirits, but they seem honestly surprised and thrilled. Their joy at Kevin’s progress is wonderful to hear, but it also has been a sobering reminder that if this is fast, we can’t even imagine the strength and perseverance it takes for most people to recover.