I'm not sure how much time we had from the time Sam's move was being put into place until Sam's move actually happened. I could go back and look, but that is not what is important. It was a month or so; maybe a bit more.
It could not get here fast enough for Sam. I knew it would get here too fast for me.
If you have been following my writings, and if you have not forgotten, Sam was in rehab at this time. He had become so weak after his bout with pneumonia, and, being eighty-three, it was taking him quite a while to regain his strength. He was due to get out of rehab before his departure to Florida. This concerned both his daughter and me. Going by the time line, Sam was to be released. Going by Sam's condition, we could not imagine him being released.
At this time, Sam was not eating. He had no appetite. He was losing pounds by the day. Not eating and losing weight was taking its toll on him physically. Sam was so weak. All Sam wanted to do was sleep. I would talk to him. The nurses would talk to him. His daughter would talk to him. If Sam really wanted to get to Florida, he was going to have to get stronger. He was going to have to eat. He was going to have to go to physical therapy. Sam would always agree with us, nod his head and then go to bed. It would have been aggravating had it not been so gut wrenching. I felt as though I was watching Sam deteriorate right in front of my eyes.
Each morning as I entered the rehab hospital, I would walk into the dining room to see if Sam was at breakfast. If he was, I would sit down and attempt to get him to eat as much as he could. The hospital served a great breakfast; eggs, pancakes, french toast, bacon, ham, toast, coffee, juice. Sam had the opportunity to have a great breakfast every morning. I was elated when I would see him sitting in his wheelchair at the breakfast table. He would often look up, see me and smile. He'd always say, "Good morning. You're here." He'd say it so happily. As though he were as happy to see me as I was to see him. During this time, I would also show up with a DanActive, trying to get some biotics back into Sam's system, and an Ensure, trying to build up Sam's strength. Even if I could not get Sam to eat, I would get him to drink his juice, his DanActive and his Ensure. A few times I even took Gatorade, but Sam didn't like it much, and it was harder to get him to drink.
A couple things Sam loved. Sam loved his large mocha frappacino (with whipped cream) from McDonald's. Sam also loved an egg mcmuffin. If I did not see Sam at breakfast, I would, first, go check on him in his room, and, second, head to McDonald's. It broke my heart when Sam would barely touch his egg mcmuffin and barely sip his frappacino. I would sit and talk and encourage, but Sam just wanted to sleep.
Finally, finally, finally the doctors started giving Sam an appetite stimulant. yay!! Sam got megace with each meal. It didn't work overnight. It took a while, but slowly we could all see Sam's appetite coming back. Sam would take three bites of his eggs instead of one. Sam would drink half of his mocha frappacino instead of merely staring at it. Each and every day I would encourage Sam to eat at least one bite more than the day before. Each day I would become overjoyed with Sam's improvement. Sam was not gaining back any weight, but Sam was eating. Sam's energy did not come back as quickly as his appetite, that would still take time, but I no longer felt as though I was watching my friend rolling down hill. I now felt that my Sam would get better and better and become stronger and stronger..... yay!!
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