Thursday started with an appointment with John's primary care doctor. If I'm being honest, it wasn't the reassuring visit I had hoped for. The doctor seemed surprised by how profoundly the stroke has affected John's speech and tried to speak directly to him as though nothing had changed. At one point he wondered aloud how anyone could have known this was going to happen. He saw John two weeks prior to the stroke for his physical, and seemed to question whether he missed something.

As someone living this every minute of every day, I found myself thinking that I'm less interested in why this happened and much more focused on what we do now. Sometimes, there is no "why". One thing this experience has taught me is that everyone processes news like this differently, and I'm learning to give people grace as they find their footing.

After the appointment, reality set back in. I began researching attorneys to help us navigate disability benefits for John, establish power of attorney, and finally create a will for myself so I know John will always be cared for, no matter what life brings. I also started the process of getting John established with a neurologist at Beth Israel. That means gathering copies of his MRI, medical records, and a referral before we can even schedule the appointment. Interestingly, many of those same records—including his MRI and documentation from his previous back surgeries—are also needed by the attorney to build a complete picture for his disability application. It feels like we're slowly learning to navigate an entirely new system, one phone call and one form at a time.

The rest of Thursday was much quieter. We managed to get the pool vacuum working (a victory!), took plenty of naps, and accepted that rest is just as important as productivity right now. For dinner, we treated ourselves to pasta from a local restaurant using a DoorDash gift card from my wonderful coworkers. In the evening, we curled up together and started watching Season 2 of Nobody Wants This. We loved the first season, and it felt wonderfully normal to be laughing together over a show again.

Friday was technically a Summer Friday for me rather than a day of leave, so we tried to make the most of it. I left messages for two attorneys, reached out to Spaulding Rehabilitation to inquire about their music-based aphasia program, and then we started our morning speech therapy exercises.

When I say "speech therapy," it's really communication and cognition therapy. We practice matching words to pictures, finishing sentences with Scrabble tiles, and other exercises that help rebuild language. Somehow we've managed to make it fun. We laugh a lot, cheer every success, and celebrate the smallest victories because right now those little victories matter.

One of the biggest improvements we're seeing is in John's writing. He's now writing two, three, and sometimes even four words together. His thoughts are coming through more clearly every day. At the same time, we're also seeing another common effect of his stroke. His therapists describe it as "acting frontal." His attention shifts quickly, so he might begin taking pool floats out, notice the hammock, start putting that up instead, and then move on to something entirely different. It's another reminder that the brain is healing in its own remarkable way.

The aphasia is still incredibly frustrating for him. You can almost see that the words are there. He knows exactly what he wants to say, but his lips simply won't cooperate to make the sounds. It's like living with a word that's permanently on the tip of your tongue. One bright spot, though, is music. John is humming along with songs more and more, which is one of the reasons I'm so hopeful that we can get him into Spaulding's music therapy program.

In the afternoon, we spent time outside doing what has always brought us peace. John cleaned and refilled the hummingbird feeders while I weeded the gardens, trimmed the tomato and pepper plants, picked eggplants and peppers that were ready, and gave several neglected plants a much-needed drink of Miracle-Gro. We cooled off with a swim, spent some time in the sunshine, and simply enjoyed being together.

John is still napping at least twice a day, and that's exactly what his brain needs. Right now we're still in the very early stages of recovery. The first couple of weeks after a stroke and thrombectomy are focused on healing, reducing inflammation, and allowing the brain to recover from the initial trauma. The next two to three months are often called the "golden window" of stroke recovery. As the inflammation continues to decrease, healthy parts of the brain begin forming new pathways to take over jobs once handled by the damaged areas. That's why this period is so important, and why we're putting so much energy into intensive speech therapy and exploring every opportunity, including music therapy.

This morning brought one more sweet moment. John woke up wanting to color, so he pulled out the coloring books while I gathered the markers. We spent the morning listening to music that his dad loved and quietly coloring together. Later, John went out to the front yard, clipped flowers from the garden, and made a bouquet for our next-door neighbors to thank them for helping let the dogs out while we've been navigating all of this.

Life still looks very different than it did just a few weeks ago. But every laugh, every written sentence, every hummed melody, every flower picked, and every ordinary moment together reminds us that healing is happening—even when it's slow.

We're playing the long game, and we're grateful to have all of you walking beside us.