The last three weeks have been pretty hectic and full of adjustments for us.

Just hours before Dad was brought home from the hospital on the 22nd, Ate Gail and her family moved out to live with her in-laws. It was quite a shift from what we've all been used to and we miss the kids terribly, but we're coping.

Mom, on the other hand, only returned to work two days ago after nearly a month of nursing Dad. Although she could've gone much earlier, she decided to be with him some more until he felt confident enough to be pretty much on his own.

Ironically - and thank God for this - I've never seen Mom look so calm and seem worry-free under such a difficult circumstance than right after The Incident occurred. I think she's really doing a magnificent job in spite of all, and because of her positive change in attitude, she's making it easier for the rest of us to deal with the situation, too. This is very, very critical for the family right now. I'm personally astounded by the manner she's taken care of things so far, considering the many other load she carries, and I can only hope at this point that I get to be as strong as her when my turn comes.

And so with things looking up, I'm delighted to say that Dad has shown a lot of progress since he came home two weeks ago. From having to ride a wheelchair to using a 4-legged walker to just holding a cane, he's now been walking unaided since Saturday. The outpour of love, prayers and support from both our family and friends certainly helped his fast recovery. But more than that, it's his determination to get better and God, above all, that gave and still continue to provide him the will and strength to go on.

A few days ago, though, I almost cried over dinner when I saw Dad having a more difficult time eating by himself. He was trying to hold the spoon when it fell, so I watched as he switched to use his left hand instead. And then he tried again a couple of times, but it just kept falling on his plate. The one time he thought his grip was strong enough to hold the utensil, he tried to reach for his mouth but couldn't. It was as if all his muscles had stiffened, preventing him to move a certain way. It was horrible; worse than when he was still in the ICU.

I quickly phoned Ate Gail to check if that was normal. To my relief, she said all stroke patients undergo this stage when muscles become stiff due to spasticity, sometimes affecting his speech and body movements. Once he's reached the peak of the said condition, his body will start to normalize again and hopefully 100% recovery will follow.

See, although without a cane now, Dad's actually still struggling to drag his right foot when walking. His speech is slowly getting better, but certainly still needs a lot of improvement as well. His right arm is also a little bit out of shape, but we all remain positive.

Dad has been religiously doing walking exercises in the mornings for his feet and legs, accomplishing seatwork we've specifically designed to better his handwriting, and reading aloud to improve his speech. His 'wikipedia', for example, still sounds like 'vikipizza' or 'wikipizza'; 'captain barbel' as 'captain pa-pel'; and 'imposed' as 'im-pohs', among others. He's having real trouble pronouncing any words with 'r' and finds it very hard to utter words in a loud voice. In fact, if you talk to him, you'd find his tone is like that of a toddler's, with the enunciation of somebody who hasn't spoken Tagalog for years. It's actually quite cute, except that it shouldn't be like that.

Also, Mom has commissioned a 15-year old boy who lives just across the street to watch over Dad while we're all away to school/work.  Voks (short for Buknoy, originally Nestor) has been with us for a week and so far has proven himself to be reliable. He helps me out in the kitchen when I cook (oh yeah, I cook now and getting good at it!), in the living room when I dust the furniture or clean the floor, and generally follows our requests without complaining. However, having only finished second grade and coming from a faraway province, his knowledge of things is very, very limited. The kid is surely a major, major work in progress � sometimes he's fun to be with, sometimes he just gets on my nerves. 

This morning, I accidentally injured my middle finger while chopping sitaw. It was a deep and bad cut (it won't stop bleeding), so I quickly went out to get first aid. Well, guess what he said, "sayang, hindi naputol!" One nice thing I really like about him, though, is that after all he's been through at his young age, he can still smile like he's never experienced any hardships in life before. Every morning, he'd come to our house wearing that ever so radiant smile and greet everyone with a strong, "Good Morning!" as if to say, "Hooray, it's a brand new day! Let's be happy. What's for breakfast?" Was kidding with the third sentence, of course. But you know what I mean.

As for other things, Dad has been undergoing therapy thrice a week since his first week and doing regular check-ups with his doctors as well. Last week, for instance, we were in the hospital everyday for four consecutive days doing either one. Oh, and speaking of, I have just one complaint about that last time he had to consult his cardiologist. I think as professionals, doctors should at least show basic courtesy and notify the secretary if he is going to be late because, he should realize, patients and their relatives value their time, too, you know. I mean, you can't just go say your clinic hours are between 12 and 4 then show up at three?

So anyway, yeah, we're okay, thank you. Will write more later.