The doctors believed the clot-busting drug they gave him in the hospital, a medication called tPA, for tissue plasminogen activator, had reached his brain in time to reestablish blood flow and limit what would have been catastrophic damage otherwise. He was still paralyzed and without speech, but he could eat and focus long enough to watch reruns of the Rockford Files and Gunsmoke and Highway to Heaven, which, she said, seemed to bring a tear to his eye every time, the genuine kind. They’d set his bed up downstairs, with a twenty-four-hour live-in nurse for the first week and a visiting day nurse after that, in addition to the speech and occupational therapists who visited three times a week to work his legs and arms or to electrically stimulate his throat. It was all quite amazing, Beverly said. “You should see how good they are.” Carl made sure that the bills were paid and the checkbook was balanced and that the household was running smoothly again, for which Beverly was grateful.
What do You think about I Thought You Were Dead (2010)?
