{Karlton Bontrager}

It’s interesting how bonds grow in the hospital. We’ve made some attachments to parents of other patients. One teenager was vacationing with his parents in Queenstown when he was struck by an automobile. He was able to leave intensive care before Karlton did, but then we met up with his parents again when Karlton moved to the High Dependency Unit. And again we ran into them in ISIS when Karlton moved there. Yesterday they returned home to Australia. What a happy day it was for them to be taking their son home. We’re hopeful that it won’t be too long until Karlton follows their son’s progress once again.

He did get to move into that patient’s room. Karlton seems alert enough that we didn’t object to the shift. Earlier in the week we were afraid that a move would be disorienting for him, but he coped with it well yesterday. He’s nearer the nurses station which means the staff is able to observe him closely when we’re away, though it also implies more hallway noise. He hasn’t figured out yet how to work the nurse-call button, so he shouts out when he wants help. In the new room, the nurses should be able to respond more quickly.

When conversations go on in the hallway, Karlton sometimes thinks the comments are directed to him, and he needs to respond. Yesterday, when his sister telephoned, he followed the conversation, hearing only Choy-Lang’s side, but making side comments that were relevant to the topic. This, we are told, is why he continues to be exhausted and why he sleeps so soundly and so much.

In the physio-gym yesterday afternoon, the PTs assisted Karlton in walking from his blue wheelchair to a stationary chair, a distance of about 10 feet. While he rested at his goal, the PTs challenged him to move his left leg. He quickly responded that he couldn’t–and he didn’t. But then they put a smooth board under that foot and a circular cloth between his shoe and the board. The circular cloth was like a rolled up sock so it had some height to it, keeping the sole of his shoe from making contact with the board. Then they asked him to slide his foot backwards. Again he said he couldn’t, and he did not.

Next, the PTs put a ball the size of a volleyball in front of his left toe and told him to move his foot forward. Once again, Karlton said he could not. But we all saw it. His foot moved forward about an inch! They moved his foot and the ball back into position. With great effort and concentration he was able to do it a second time.

There’s no promise that this small leg movement can be increased to eventual walking or kicking. Once again, we’re working on hope. But hope is such a wonderful thing to have right now. We’re very grateful that Karlton has come this far.