Last night my dad looked a lot better. He was sitting in a chair instead of laying in the bed, and he informed me that he made it a few steps into the hallway with a walker when the ladies from physical therapy came to call. People assure me that he should be able to get back up to the physical level he was at last week, and perhaps even better than that with a guided exercise program.
He has a gym membership, and I know he uses the treadmills, but I suspect that he wasn't using the weight machines to their full advantage because he "doesn't want to get all sweaty". *sigh*
The bad news is that he really doesn't seem to be completely himself, mentally. I don't mean that he's unable to understand us, or that he has trouble recognizing people or anything, but he's unaware of things he's done, like when he moves an item. I also think that his habit of repeating the same idea or story is much more pronounced, now. Maybe that's just good old fashioned fear of mortality making him babble, though. It's still a bit early to tell.
Here's hoping that he makes it into a regular room with a phone, today. Cell phone use isn't allowed in the ICU, so I've been unreachable for hours at a time these past few days. I'm just not used to that, any more.