Friday, July 1, 2011

Home Sweet Home

I’ve been home over 24 hours now. It feels good but it’s strange too. It’s my home but I have to learn my way around all over again. I spent 2 ½ weeks preparing for this. I told my PT that I lived in a 2 story condo and there is no way anyone was going to stop me from getting upstairs. In PTese that translates to “I’m a masochist. Bring it, bitch.” And they did. I practiced everyday with a walker. In the beginning I could hardly stand, but 3 hours of therapy a day began to make a difference. Last weekend I finally managed to walk – well more like hobble – 100ft. I thought I was going to pass out from exhaustion. I can’t move my ankle at all so I had almost no control over where my foot landed. I kept kicking the walker and damn near kicked it out from under me. But since I sucked it up and made it to the blue tape line on the floor, PT said “That was great! Now let’s try stairs!” Um…seriously? Oh right. I wanted this.

I think it was exactly a week ago that they had me step up on one of those Step Reebok aerobic step things just to try. They placed it in between 2 parallel bars so I could hold on – not with both hands by the way, as my right hand is useless. My husband and I giggle whenever they mention me on the parallel bars. As if I’m going to wheel myself into the gym wearing a sequined leotard and execute a wicked cherry drop from 20ft in the air, then land a flawless dismount on one leg with my left hand perfectly poised in the air. Come on. You know it crossed your mind.

I eventually graduated to real stairs. Not a full flight of stairs, but 4 stairs. I’d get so dizzy by the time I got to the top, sometimes resulting in vertigo. I’d take a 2 hour nap every time we finished a session.  I’ve been home now over 24 hours. I keep forgetting to count the stairs but there are at least 15. I’ve been upstairs about 4 times now. I’m not allowed to try alone because it’s too dangerous but damnit I got to sleep in my bed with my husband and toddler for the first time in 23 days. My son insisted on sharing a pillow with me. When I came to in the middle of the night, I found his little arm wrapped around mine. I still can’t walk too well with the walker, but I’ll get there. In the meantime I’m enjoying my wheelchair which I learned was modified for a dwarf. (I’m not joking but you can laugh anyway. I did.) At 4’11” it’s rare that I sit in any chair that allows my feet to touch the floor so this is pretty damn sweet.

And the best part of my first night home? No, it’s not the name brand toilet paper (although it may be tied for 2nd best thing.) The best thing is that I got to sleep in the dark. Comfort is a thorn in someone else’s ass now.


  1. you'll get there for sure.

    thanks for posting this. i was wondering.

    in my mind your sequined leotard is purple.

  2. Cheers to the little things we all take for granted. I will never look at toilet paper the same after reading this.