She was improving even in my absence, though. She was now able to move her head to either side if she chose to, and was following people when they moved by doing that instead of just following them with her eyes. It was a small thing for anyone else, but the doctor was excited about it. Charlie said that she was signing the words “yes” and “no” when he’d spoken to her, too, instead of blinking them.

While all of that was good, the doctor had warned that she still wasn’t expected to be back to the way she’d been before the stroke. Her movement was still going to be limited, and while he was confident she’d be able to use sign language well enough to make herself reasonably understood, she’d never be exactly fluent in it. Her body was increasing in its ability to move, but she would never be at full capacity again, and the doctor had alerted Charlie to the probability that her bodily functions would have to be controlled by either a catheter or other means, which meant lots of nurse visits. Dr. Hernandez still thought a home or an assisted care facility would be best for her.

I think Shane saw me bristle at the news about the facility. I was dead set against Alice being put in a place like that. I knew it was probably what would be best for her, but she and I had discussed it and agreed to never put the other in one unless there was absolutely no chance of being able to care for them at home. I knew it would be a struggle, but I thought I could take of her if I had nurses come in once a day or so.

I was all set to argue with Shane about it, because I could see without her even starting that she agreed with the doctor. She wouldn’t let me argue, though. She just said I needed to rest and that we still had a lot of time to think about it all. I thought about arguing, but I knew she’d never let me get away with it. Besides, she was right. I needed to rest, and it wasn’t as if anything we discussed that day would make much of a difference in the long run.