Babes!!
Story Time.
When I finally understood what had happened with my brain, I can remember sobbing all night long in the ICU. I felt helpless, and therefore hopeless. As I tried to picture my future, it looked bleak. How was I going to do all the things? And by, "all the things," I mean everything.
The morning after my one-person pitty party, I was still in a state of shock, fear, sadness, confusion, frustration, and paralysis. However, I focused on doing what I could with what I had. A few days later, I was transferred to IMC... the NeuroTrauma Rehab Unit. I was still wheelchair bound. I was still paralyzed on my left side. I was not able to see out of my left eye, or swallow food or drink. I was still put in a sling that hung from the ceiling and moved to the toilet like Peter Pan flying through my 12th floor room. I was still being given monkey baths by hospital staff. BUT, I was determined to do what I could.
The second day at IMC, they amazing physical therapy team came in with occupational therapy and taught me how to transfer from my bed to my wheelchair and from my wheelchair to my bed. It was an hours-long process to teach me and then for my brain to compute what I had to do. But, eventually I got it. This made me somewhat mobile.
My therapy team put my schedule for the next day on my wall-mounted calendar every night. My calendar was in 30-minute blocks. My therapy started every morning at 9 am. Every 30-minute block was scheduled until 6 pm every day. So, I filled in my own schedule starting every day at 7 am. I would wake up. Rand would help me transfer to my wheelchair. I'd transfer from my wheelchair to the toilet. I would then wheel my darn self back into my room with my right hand and I would make my bed from my wheelchair with my right hand. It took a long time, but I did it every single morning. Then Rand would help me get dressed and pull my hair back into an elastic. By 8:30, I was ready for breakfast.
This very small task of making my bed by myself every morning was exactly what I needed. I was no longer helpless, and therefore no longer hopeless. My room looked clean when my bed was made. I had a routine when I made my bed. I was doing something independently by making my bed. Yes, it took what seemed like forever, but I did it. Every single morning.
When our lives seem overwhelming and simply getting out of bed takes all we have, we can make our beds. We can put our pillows where they "belong." We can do that one thing every day to show ourselves that we are not helpless or hopeless. We are capable. We are strong. We are moving forward. We've got this!!
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