PT

    So brother Frank came out to meet me at the nursing home, and mainly to see Dad of course. Dad was in physical therapy at the time, though, so we went down to see him go through his paces. He had been quite tired all day, and in fact had told me that he wouldn't mind if the therapists took the afternoon off. (He's paying the price for having told me on Tuesday that he was surprised when they didn't come back in the afternoon. I told on him.)
    But he did well. He had been there a while already. When we got there, he was mainly practicing standing. When he finished that, he rode the stationary bicycle for ten minutes. Heaven knows, he's lost muscle mass and stamina, but we were very, very encouraged. And we liked the way the therapist encouraged him to do as much as possible for himself without ever being mean. She was a good coach.
    I asked if he could use the pool. I always thought that that would be the best way for him to improve his strength and stamina gradually, as the water would help bear his weight. She'll have to ask a supervisor, but she was pretty sure that it would be OK. So I went and got him swim trunks just in case. Pretty hip Joe Boxers, too; he'll be the stylin'est man in the nursing home.
    So on net, I'm feeling a lot more optimistic about the whole situation, and much less idiotic about my choice of rehabilitation facility.