One of Seth's friends told us yesterday that he had a dream about being back in Afghanistan. He was wearing his prosthetic and trying to get through the muddy grape fields. The physical therapist said he's heard that dreaming about being in the prosthetic means you're well on the way to acceptance. Seth said, "I haven't even dreamed of myself without my leg yet. What does that mean?" Time will tell, I suppose.
October 1 marked the three-month anniversary of Seth's injury. We honored it in a profound way: we negotiated the Metro (thanks to Brett who knew his way around), made our way into D.C. and visited the Smithsonian Museum of American History.
The Metro was an experience. Finding the elevators was a trick; they are the smallest and slowest elevators I have ever seen and, according to other guys here, at many stations, they don't even work. Thankfully, they all worked where we were. The station was not busy on our way out, but on the way back, the trains were packed, and nobody made any concessions for a guy in a wheelchair. I guess we'd better get used to that.
At the museum, we visited the Price of Freedom: Americans at War exhibit--appropriately, I suppose. When we went through the Civil War part, there was a display of prosthetics of the day. Seth wished he had his leg with him, and then, he said, he would have just sat there as part of the exhibit, showing the modern-day advancements.
Other "advancements" of the week: He had his first shower. This would have happened much sooner, but his hospital room shower did not have hot water. Thankfully, the apartment does. Also, on our outing, Seth wore his only pair of pants, specially sewn by Sew Much Comfort to accommodate the Taylor-spatial frame on his right leg. (We affectionately call them "Hammer pants").
Finally, Seth's dad returned home today after faithfully doing the night shift for the last month and a half.