So, I’m finally back after taking a brief two-week hiatus. I apologize for that. I’ve done most of my catching-up, but not all. I will catch up by the end of the week. It is now time for me to continue to the last few parts of my Series posts. There should be no more than three or four after this that will bring you to up to speed about how I’m doing physically, medically, emotionally and psychologically in my life today.
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The days after Christmas flew by. I was doing extremely well and, as I mentioned in Part 5, I graduated from the ‘Buzz-master’, as it affectionately came to be called. I was walking around more confidently with my walker, maneuvering the corridors like a pro. I did well on shower days and was able to wash myself with little to no assistance (of course, sitting on the shower chair). The only problem with shower days was the excruciating pain when the water hit any part of my left side. It was like fire. I was on Neurontin at the time because the doctor said it would help my ‘nerve pain’. I would take it at night before bed. At first it knocked me out. That’s about it. More on that another time.
I continued to kick butt in all my therapies. The therapists even went so far as to order my home supplies (port-o-potty-for those “I don’t think I can make it moments” (yeah, I know), shower chair, my very own walker). This development, of course, gave me hope that I would be going home in time for New Year’s, which was only a few days away. The doctor had a meeting with my case worker, my nurses, and all my therapists, and they all felt that even though I was progressing extremely quickly and doing very well, they were not comfortable enough with me going home in time for New Year’s. They all felt I needed a little more inpatient rehab time. I was upset, but not hysterically so. While I wanted to go home, I knew I still had work to do, so I didn’t fight it. I kept doing what I had to do; since the house I live in has a few stairs, that’s one thing I always did in PT, up and down the stairs.
Same in OT. I did a great job overall, especially when it came to anything having to do with daily living – hair, teeth, shower, etc. Getting dressed wasn’t too bad as long as I wore big shirts (couldn’t lift left arm, compromise) and tanks instead of bras (same). I could put on loose-fitting socks and pants, but I’d have to be sitting in bed for socks and lying down for pants. It was a lot of work. I had the most trouble with the little things, buttoning small buttons, fishing out little items from the putty ball with my left hand, things like that. Although they gave me some trouble, I was able to take some of the items they gave me and work on them in my room and on my bed.

I know my precious Lhasa Apso Sophie came to visit me between Christmas and New Year’s. I love that hairy little thing so much! I don’t know what I’d do without her. She came one of the family visits. The rehab hospital allowed it every so often.
ST was giving me the most trouble. It wasn’t that I couldn’t communicate; for the most part, I could be understood clearly. My problem was my inability to find my words, to pull them out of my brain when I needed them. The problem was my inability to have simple conversations where there is a ‘change’ or a ‘conflict’ of some sort. It’s almost like in the books and stories we write. Once the ‘conflict’ came in, I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t focus, would become extremely flustered, would stutter so bad that you couldn’t understand what I was saying and would get to the point of frustration that I would burst into tears and shut down. Yup, I was going to need some work.
New Year’s Eve came and after a couple of morning therapies, the rest of the day was mine. Everyone I knew was working. I spoke to my daughter, my son-in-law and some close friends. I read a little, watched some TV, and practiced make-believe checkbook balancing and math problems. Then I watched some more TV. I think there were even some marathons going. I know I probably watched. It had already been decided that everyone was going to do their own thing for New Year’s 2012, whether it was work, party, stay home or whatever. I figured I was just going to watch TV and the countdown like I did when I was a kid. I didn’t even make it to the ball drop.
All of a sudden, it’s morning, it’s a new year, and I made it! Sweet. It’s a holiday and I’ve got the day all to myself and I plan; I plan for all the changes I’m going to make in 2012 and beyond. Why? Because I’m still alive. It’s now 2012 and by the grace of God, I’m still here. So, obviously, I have things to do…right?
I’m sorry Part 6 took me so long to get out to you, so I’ve already started on Part 7. Until next post, love you guys. And yes, I have a couple of between posts due; nothing like playing catchup is there? Hugs.
Related articles
- Coming Clean About My Stroke-Part5 (lilicasplace.com)
- Coming Clean About My Stroke-Part4 (lilicasplace.com)
Reblogged this on My Miracle Life and commented:
I’m so behind in re-blogging this. So sorry. Part 6
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It sounds like you are (were, considering the dates you’re discussing) making great progress. I love the part about God still having plans for you. I’m a firm believer in that. I’m so looking forward to more of this story, and need to go back and read 1,2, and 3. (I met you at 4 😉 Thanks as always for sharing so honestly and openly.
Tina @ Life is Good
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Thanks so much Tina for your kind words. 🙂 They mean so much to me. I started writing about my illness a couple of months ago because it just took me a long time to feel comfortable enough to do so. I’m grateful for all the progress I’ve made over the past 2 years. I’ll be continuing the story throughout the month, as I work my way through NaNoWriMo as well. 🙂 Thanks so much for visiting. Lily
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You were luckier than me. My insurance would only pay for two ot three weeks of in hospital rehab. The doctor had to fight to get me three more days, but eventually the insurance company won. Within a month after my stroke I was discharged home. I hadn’t even used my walker except in rehab time. I was too much of a fall hazard. Go figure.
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Are you serious? That’s why they weren’t comfortable letting me go home so soon, BECAUSE I was still a fall hazard. They had to explain it to my insurance also, and that’s why they approved it (it must be), but why would they have denied you knowing that the end result could have been far worse and cost them a heck of a lot more $$$ in the long run? I just don’t get it. And I can’t figure…
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