I Don't Need Rehab! ~ Once Upon a Time

This is the 7th instalment in the Once Upon a Time series. 

To view previous instalments in this series click here. 

It's been awhile (Nov. 2011) since we read the last installment of Once Upon Time; we were left wondering if the Princess's dream of going home from the hospital was going to happen... Well, the doctors had one more stop before the Princess could return to her castle...

REHAB

No, not this kind of Rehab ... 

This kind, Physical Rehab. 

Which included learning to transfer from bed to wheel chair; wheel chair to the "royal throne" and back to bed, all on her own.  Learn to use a walker; go up and down stairs; learn to use a cane;  rehab therapy on her shattered elbow and re-develop hand/eye coordination, motor skills, thinking, focusing.

But due to a similar little gadget (tub seat) the need for the above rehab almost ended...

Well, the tub seat and the nurse who left her sitting there (ALONE - unattended), [after the Princess repeatedly had been saying she was getting dizzy,] to go and get the bath towels she had forgotten. In the time the nurse took to get the towels, the Princess must have gone unconscious ... as the nurse re-entered the bathroom, the Princess was no longer sitting on the bath bench, her limp body lay over the side of the bathtub,face on the floor ... a small trace of blood ...

image credit

Thankfully the Princess's Angels were again working hard to keep her safe. She woke to the nurse's screams; unaware of what had just happened or the grave danger she had been in moments earlier.

After this second close call on her life the Princess was determined that she was much safer at home. With the help of some wonderful friends, she was able to learn to get in and out of the wheel chair; take steps with the help of cane and slowly (and painfully) go up and down a few stairs. Yes, she was almost Home... now all she had to do was learn to transfer from wheel chair to car.

After the therapist explained the technique and cautioned that this is the part most people have problems adjusting to, getting in a car backwards. This was going to be EASY! 

Any woman who has ever had to get into a car this low will tell you; the only way to do it in a Ladylike  way (not exposing anything) is "sit in backwards, then bring your legs in together". When the therapist uttered these same words, ~ For the first time in all this therapy stuff... she knew/was confident she was going home.

 Will things be better now that she is going home? Tune in next time for a continuation ... of

Home at Last - Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

image:www.allposters.com

As I moved from the car to up the walk way, I truly left like an elderly woman, frail and hunched over, cane in one hand, while being assisted (held up) on the other side. I shuffled my slippered feet along the path way to the stairs that took you to the front porch and my front door. How I made it up those 5 steps, that first day still remains a mystery – though I had help, it felt like 50 steps nonetheless.

Walking in my front door, I looked around – everything was just as I had left it, more or less. I was seated on the sofa, while my things were brought in from the car; I looked around – a feeling of being an intruder in another person’s life enveloped me. The person who lived here, was full of life, pictures scattered around - showed laughter and memories with friends at social gatherings, travels, charity functions and BBQs. Yet, this person was me – but now I could barely hold my head up let alone be the active, energy filled soul in those pictures.

image: google search images

Upstairs, my nightmare became a reality; I had to be lifted unto my Wheat Farmers style bed – I had previously so easily hoped into. The duvet that I had purchased and covered with a ruby red and golden tone duvet cover, that had felt so light and warm – now felt like a ton of bricks, and had to be replaced with a light weight blanket. As I lay there unable to move (literally) I took in the room – on the chaise arm my bikini, a regular summer staple, like a sun loving friend – would become the enemy of my now butchered abdomen; my new Chanel hand bag sat on the vanity table – I had just purchased it weeks before my accident – would I be able to use it – with my right arm fused at the elbow in a hand shake position; a strange voice brought me out of deep wonderment “Miss were shall I put these, don’t imagine you will be needing them anytime soon..” as my eyes followed the sound – a woman with a Jamaican accent stood there holding in one hand strappy heels I had bought on my trip to Miami that summer and my Jimmy Choo black heels in the other hand. I laid there speechless, who are you? Why do you have my shoes? Ran through my thoughts, but for some reason I could not get the words out.

image:www.yorkhospital.com

Exhaustion must have come to my rescue, as I opened my eyes I was greeted with friendly familiar smiles. “hey sleepy, did you meet the caregiver yet? She makes a great cup of coffee.” I was informed that there would be 3 shifts of caregivers – morning, afternoon and evening. They would assist me with, bathing, going to washroom, eating, dressing, meds and anything else I may need. Great, I was now a patient trapped in my own home.



What I want to share with others;

While your loved one is in the hospital people do not see them as they were prior – they accept that the person is injured. However, when your loved one goes home and is seen in a familiar environment – these same people expect to see the “old” loved one – this goes for friends and family members. Know that your loved one will do everything to be that “old” person (as they too are in denial of change) – so it becomes very confusing as to whom they are. Frustration, depression, escalation in pain, confusion and the limitations of your loved ones ability – boil to the surface.

What your loved may not be aware is that going home may be a bitter sweet experience. For me - I thought going home meant regaining some of my freedom and return to my life. Of course those looking out for me knew otherwise. They knew I still had a long road to travel, with many loops, turns and the yet to be discovered additional detour or two, along the way.

Next Monday when the reality becomes too much for friends and family – your loved one feels even more helpless.

Rehab Hospital – Step 4 of 4 to going home - Part of Picking-Up the Pieces Mondays

The day that I had worked so hard for was finally just hours away, I was going to get out of this hospital! What I didn’t realize was that it wasn’t going to be a straight trip home. There would be a detour to a rehab hospital which would last a few weeks.


My first day at the Rehab hospital – was welcoming. I discovered that during the day I could wear my own clothes – and in the evening my own pjs. The nurses all seemed very helpful and I was in a semi-private room. This would be home until I was able to achieve: walking with a cane, go up and down stairs - But first I would need to learn to transfer out of bed into a wheel chair (on my own) – and back into bed; I would also have to learn to feed myself with my left hand; and gain some strength and become weight bearing on my right side. My actual stay would be dependent on successfully achieving the above goals.

After an Angel Friend (more on this in future posts), had me settled in my “new temporary” home, he went off to get me some food. In the meantime a nurse came in to get me washed up, she thought it would be best to have me sit on the bath bench, while she hosed me down, gave me a shower. The last I recalled was telling her I was feeling dizzy – then hearing her scream, as I found myself slumped over the side of the tub face planted on the floor blood spurting from somewhere, as the floor was covered in blood. As she approached, she kept saying “I just stepped out to get some towels to dry you”.. yes, in my dizzy state she had left me unattended.

Once I was back in bed, my Angel Friend arrived and the first thing he said was “look at the size of your nose! What happened?” As I filled him in on my first shower experience – the nurse came in and again apologized “I’m so sorry – for leaving her unattended- I just stepped out to get a towel.”

The next few weeks I was put through extensive physiotherapy, exercises geared to rehabilitate my movements and dexterity and cognitive testing. The food was not much better, here – the staff was friendlier and more helpful. Friends continued to bring me food – now from favourite restaurants, as I was able to eat and magazines that kept me entertained – I couldn’t focus to read but the pictures were entertaining. My hopes of being in my home for Christmas came and went, with New Year’s Eve approaching. So my most favourite celebrations, Birthday, Christmas and ringing in the New Year were spent in the hospital.

I was convinced that home would be a much better place for me, and practiced, practiced walking around my bed with a cane – every opportunity I had. Finally I was told that if I could transfer from the wheelchair to a car I would be a few steps closer to going home. I was excited by the news, but wasn’t sure what all would be involved in this transfer to car business. I was soon going to find out, that afternoon I was taken to the hospital parking lot in my wheelchair, and the instructor set out to demonstrate how I was to get into the car. As I watched him- back towards the passenger seat, sit down –so legs are down, facing the open door-, then slightly turn his back inward and rotate in the seat with legs together until he was in sitting position – back against the seat and legs safely in the car. I knew I would pass this first try … after all, anyone who has had to get in and out of low sports cars knows – this is the first thing a “well heeled lady” learns, so as to not put her panties on display or look like an Amazon getting in and out. The instructor was amazed at how “quickly” I caught on; I just smiled and asked “so do I get to go home now?”

What I want to share with others;

This is perhaps the toughest step for your loved one. They have now been in the hospital a few months and the “novelty” of visiting a friend in the hospital has worn off for most people, as they feel the person has made it through the worst of it. This however is the most important time for “caring” friends and family to really let the loved-one know they are not alone; they have not been forgotten.

Although your loved one is now able to speak for themselves – they are still not able to fully comprehend what their limits are – and that they can voice their opinions. Even if they are telling you so, or are telling the kitchen staff that broccoli has florets and that just the stems is unacceptable. I went through extensive painful rehab on my right elbow – despite the fact that it was “never” going to gain any movement. To this day, I often wonder how this fact slipped through the “physio” people at rehab. Yet, at the time I was not able to question their techniques.

Next Monday we start with being home!!!!