Said Margaret to my dad, who said something similarly uplifting in reply. So it's finally happened: I've become a reliable person. Dang it all to heck; don't let word of this get around.
Dad kicked ass and took names at physical therapy yesterday. He rode the Nautilus machine (kind of like a recumbent stairstepper) for 26 minutes. Then walked back to his room fairly easily. He feels that putting him on the machine is just lazy on the part of the trainers, but if he looked down at his stick legs, he would realize that job one is building up muscles, and this is much the best way. Regardless, what a difference a week makes! He was a different guy from the deceased person who could barely lift his leg last Saturday. Wish I'd asked somebody to take him off Dilantin a month or more ago.
Correction: Not a Nautilus, but a Biodex Biostep semi-recumbent elliptical machine.
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