Shortcuts

Don entertained the idea of a degree in engineering until his first or second year in college at Oregon State University. When he discovered it would take more discipline and hard work than he was willing to invest, he changed his goals and took the opportunity to get a degree in something else. He never used his degree for employment, but rather chose a niche in the lumber industry to earn an income that served him well for many years. 

Part of Don’s success came in the lumber industry management and ownership, finding shortcuts to streamline production and increase profit. That sometimes included repairing old equipment with glue and wire instead of purchasing updated or expensive equipment. Most shortcuts perform well for the short run. Sometimes that’s all you need. They rarely, however, are a one-and-done resolution for long-term issues. I recently spent many months and thousands of dollars fixing home repair issues that were dealt with by Don with glue, wire, and caulking when they really needed tearing down and rebuilding with updated products and knowledge. After a lifetime of finding shortcuts, it should be no surprise he approaches his stroke recovery and therapy with the same attitude.

In a lucid moment this morning, Don wanted a refresher on how to manage controls for his TV. He witnessed me use a button on the TV to turn it on. Then I used remotes to navigate a menu while talking with him about his breakfast options. A lightbulb went off in his head that all he needed to do was push one magic button and, poof, the TV turns on, navigates 100 options for streaming and ends up, by osmosis, on the program selection of his choice. A most needed shortcut for him. 

Kristy: I have tried to show you many times how to operate the TV and remotes. It’s more complicated than you think these days. It probably doesn’t work for you because there are too many steps involved and you have trouble remembering the steps in the right order. Remember how sequencing was an important part of your rehabilitation, and you told the therapists you don’t want to do the work anymore? 

Don: I know. But there’s still hope. 

Kristy: There are no shortcuts in physical, speech, or occupational therapy. You told your therapists and your doctor you don’t want to do the work every day. You did not want any more referrals for therapy. 

Don: I don’t need all that stuff to figure out how to turn on my TV. 

Kristy: Oh, but you do. There are more steps than simply turning on the TV. You are adversely affected every day by your lack of understanding of the sequencing. Those of us closest to you try to guide you, and you tell us we are mistaken. Are we all, as a group, mistaken? You are the one with brain damage, but you have the wherewithal to know we are all wrong? Is that correct?

Don: Yes. 

Kristy: Then these simple tasks will continue to be frustrating for you. I don’t know what else to say to help you understand.

Our life, as we knew it, ended the day Don landed face down in our living room from a massive hemorrhagic stroke. He didn’t want this life for himself or me, but he continues to refuse to take the steps necessary to make this new life more tolerable. The free will to decide for himself is all that seems to be important. That free will for decision making is the very thing preventing him from making the right decisions on just about everything. Everyone who knows him knows how stubborn he can be. Now, it’s stubbornness on steroids. I wonder if he’s confusing “hope” with “woke,” minus political issues. They do sound alike, and he’s deaf with no tools. If you don’t understand why he does not have hearing aids, then you need to read this post again from the beginning.

Note to Self: As a verb, hope, is an expectation with confidence or a desire to cherish with anticpation. Those moments and opportunities are long gone. Reality is trying to get through each ugly 24 hours. There is no room or time for hope.