How many years have we done this – waited on the brink, hoping for something new to change our lives?
What I hope is that after this (and the second surgery), I can walk again. I’m keeping it modest. If I want to get really optimistic, a life without canes. A life where I can play with the grandkids.
I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for the care I’ve received here. I don’t ever think I’ve been the recipient of so much sustained attention and kindness. Every time I think to ask for something, it’s already on the way.
My PT is in awe of all the rock and roll I’ve seen. The department head drops in for book chats. The OT came to pick me up for a session the other day, took one look at me and said, “How about we cancel for today and get you a shower?” (I’d been up all night with a fever of undetermined origin. I was so grateful.)
And this being Philadelphia, there are webs of connection everywhere. This nurse knows my niece; that nurse grew up on the same block as one of my friends.
I can’t wait to get home. But it will also be hard to leave.
Not just competently doctored, you’re actually being cared for. Almost unheard of in our profit driven medical wasteland. The MBAs that now run the show don’t know what healing is. Or care.
Your medical team’s ability to connect with your lifelong immersion in music, literature, place and time is remarkable. Truly therapeutic.
Thanks for sharing your Christmas miracle. Wishing you successful recovery and a fulfilling new year.
A happy and prosperous new year to you. Thanks Susie for all that you’ve done for us, the fortunate ones who read your work.
I remember sitting in my wheelchair, day after day, at the rehab hospital just hoping beyond hope that 1) my Medi-Cal would be approved, and 2) I would walk again.
I also remember, as my discharge date got closer, being afraid to leave. How was I ever going to navigate my home, a warehouse space in West Oakland?
Then, the last day before my discharge, my PT (hi Edmer!) unexpectedly got twice as much movement out of my weak leg. The next day, I used a quad-cane bought from Amazon that I still use, to walk to the car and get in.
Last year, before the snow got deep, I walked up the winding road to the old mill pond and back almost every day.
I still work on recovery, fifteen years on, and sometimes when I’m trying a new exercise and it’s not easy, I ask myself “What would Edmer have me do, and why?”
It doesn’t always work, but it does always help.
I found it awe inspiring and humbling to have a team of top-flight professionals all working to get me up and putting one foot in front of the other hella times…
PTs are my new heroes.