Father walked today.  He used his walker for the first time.  I had to show him how to use it.  He held it out in front of him too far.  The idea is to have it under you at all times so you can put all or some of your weight on the handles.  He got it, and he walked to the living room, sat down on his chair, got up, walked to the kitchen, and sat on a kitchen chair, with my help of course.

I didn’t offer much help aside from hauling him up to a standing position and hanging on to his coat in case he fell.  He was pretty pleased with himself but needed reassurance that he was doing well.  Self-doubt comes into play, you know.  I told him, “Don’t sell yourself short.  You did it despite the doctors saying you will never walk again.”  He was pleased.

I can hear him now crawling on his hands and knees from the living room to his bedroom.  I told the nurse yesterday that this is not him losing his dignity, crawling on the floor, but regaining it – he is the one in charge, independent, not in need of assistance.  (Laura stated this before, too.)

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