Today, we reclaimed the living room. After weeks of Dominic sleeping on the couch, we disassembled his improvised mini-man-cave, put the Xbox back in the basement, cleaned his room top to bottom, and moved all his stuff back where it belongs. This was precipitated by a test-run on Friday where he successfully clambered up into his loft bed and out again.
So yeah, things are steadily improving. Indoors, Dominic hops everywhere with increasing confidence bordering on recklessness. Outdoors, he still uses the wheelchair. On Friday he’ll have his next follow-up, when he’ll get his shoulder x-rayed and we’ll find out whether he can ditch the wheelchair and switch to crutches. He still doesn’t like putting weight on his leg, and I suspect there’s going to be a ton of physical therapy in his future to get it back in shape.
If Phase One was that first week or so at home, when he couldn’t even do stairs at all, then we’re now at the end of Phase Two. I look forward to Phase Three getting even closer to “normal” life: for me, regular exercise, consistent piano practice, reasonable diet. All the usual regimens went out the window with the accident and it’s taking time to get back into the swing of things.
I would like to give a shout-out to the board game Gloomhaven, which has helped D and I fill the long hours at home these past few weeks. It’s a game that comes in a gigantic box with tons of sealed containers and envelopes tucked inside. The sort of game where you gradually unlock new maps, pieces, rules, and challenges each time you play — and you have to play dozens of times, countless hours, before you ever get to the “end.” The sort of game that even those brave or foolish enough to buy it rarely play more than a few times — but we have. If you have a high tolerance for complex and difficult fantasy-themed boardgames and are stuck at home caring for a similarly-inclined twelve-year-old with limited mobility, I highly recommend Gloomhaven.