Rock bottom became the solid foundation
On which I rebuilt my life.
(J.K. Rowling)
Getting in a wheelchair for the first time,
Being invited along to the pub to celebrate a birthday
Ordering take- way on to the ward
Getting rid of my curly hair
Being able to wash and dress myself
Being able to sit up on my own
Playing basketball for the first time
Scoring a basket in basketball ( after 3 months of playing)
Getting in the pool for the first time
Transferring on my own
Falling off the plinth in the gym
Going to town
The list could on and on, I have had many "first" moments during my time at Stoke and many that I am grateful for however small they sound. I can not even begin to describe to you how weak I was when I arrived at Stoke.
My days consisted of physio, occupational therapy, seeing a physiologist, sports and in the beginning I spent a lot of my spare time in bed, why? Well because I could only manage to sit up the chair for an hour or so at a time. It hurt- a lot, it was uncomfortable to get in and out of as the staff used a hoist. I didn't want to mix with anyone, why should I? I don't need them. My goal was to get home and quick. I hated it. I told all the nurses,the consultant, doctors basically anyone that would listen
that I would be home for the spring. My goal was to get home by April and back to work late spring. I was told that was wishful thinking and I should be prepared to be going home and returning to work around August time. I'll prove them wrong I remember thinking.
The day I arrived I shut my eyes as I was wheeled on my stretcher, I didn't want to see all these people in wheelchairs. To me I felt like I had reached the end of the road, this was my home now for the foreseeable future I had no choice. I felt mixed emotions and it wasn't until mum and dad left me that I fully took in what was happening, it was overwhelming and exhausting. How on earth was I going to get through this?! Sheer determination and hard work was the answer.
Ever had physio? Nope me neither. I thought it would be someone who would stretch my legs and massage them. How wrong I was. I was allocated my own physio and we went through everything from learning to sit upright, balancing, transferring from the chair to another surface using a sliding board, getting in and out of a car, weights, and finally after 12 weeks I was given the all clear from
the consultant and was able to use the standing frame. There were times where the physio was so intense it would bring tears to my eyes, mixture of pain, and sheer determination to finish what I was given to do. I never got one massage.
My fear of needles continued throughout my time spent at rehab and I refused to have the blood thinning injection, you are supposed to have this every day for 12 weeks after the accident. By me not having this injection meant my risk of developing a blood cot was 82%, I also delayed my Physio as no work was allowed to take place on my legs until the consultant said so. This just made me even more determined to build my upper body strength and quickly.
As time passed I realised that everyone here is in the same/similar situation and that it wouldn't hurt me to engage with them. I hit it off with a few guys from my ward and a few from different wards. I never met a single female in there with the same injury as me,apparently the injuries I sustained are more common in males. Always had to be the different one and cause more attention to myself.
Oops. Never a day of sick, then I go and have months off all in one go. Brilliant.
Every night I would try and get my toes to move, face screwed up in concentration trying with all my might, willing just a flicker, but nothing. I started trying to get my legs to move, night after night I tried, suddenly my thigh flickered, confusion crossed my mind, I tried again slowly, it flickered again. Ahhhh. So tried again this time I filmed it just incase it never done it again. Next morning I tried again and it still moved. Sheer joy passed through me, I wanted to shout and cry all at the same time. A muscle was starting to work again. YES YES YES.
The smug look I had on my face when I 1) made it through the 12 weeks without developing a blood clot and 2) that I had managed to recover a tiny bit of muscle movement back. The Consultant was lost for words during that ward round.
27th March was set as provisional discharge date by myself and the rest of my team, I was warned it could change as in be moved back. There was noway I was going to let that happen.
I'll never forget my time during my rehabilitation, it helped me prepare for the start of my new life.
03/01/2013 - 27/03/2013
