Therapy continues

More of the usual stuff – walked to PT in the morning, did standing leg exercises at the bar (kick forward, march in place, kick back, kick sideways, bend up, squats). Then did more leg exercises seated in the chair, and 15 minutes on the bike, followed by another spin around with a rollator, this time on carpet and not the hard hallway floor. That sucker really is fast and I found my arms were really tired from squeezing the handles too hard trying to make it slow down, even though I know that you are SUPPOSED to do that by gently squeezing the brakes. Yeah, like I’m going to remember that when I’m trying not to have the thing fly away from me. It’s a good thing I have a while to get used to this because it ain’t as easy as it looks when you watch a bunch of old people all using rollators to scoot around their space. I asked my PT about her guestimate for my discharge, and she said probably 2.5-3 weeks. That puts it right where I had it myself, and I’m now targetting October 15th as my date

OT was this afternoon, and again, more of the same – arm bike, hand weights, practice standing up/sitting down, and standing up with a walker batting a ball with someone else holding on with only one hand. Okay, I used to think that would be impossible but it didn’t seem that hard, which tells me (again) to remember to celebrate the small incremental changes and not get bogged down in the hard scary new stuff.

I love my kitties and it made my heart so happy to see them, but it’s even harder to be back in this place now. I just want to be done with it and moving into the next stage – but my body isn’t ready. There are things I need to learn, to strengthen, to figure out physically to make sure I can manage on my own at home. Will I need to hire home health? What about a Visiting Angel? How do I interview for that while in rehab? If I wait til I’m home, how can I get clean? I can’t shower on my own yet and probably won’t for some time.

I don’t feel that it’s okay to cry and get depressed over what I’ve lost, in part because I don’t know what’s just missing for now and what’s permanently gone. That’s going to take me a year to know. I have to suck it up and power through no matter what. It’s not enough to just want to be home and cuddle those furry girls. I have to be ready to do it and not risk having to come back into residential rehab.

I’m in limbo rehab land now. I’m not in Emerald Bay anymore, with that active community of friends, golf, events, parties, Mah Jongg, and I’m not really at Meadow Lake, which also has an active community that I’ve barely discovered. Rehab land has a cast of residents (aka patients) who have a wide variety of problems, plus a revolving cast of care givers. We residents don’t know each other except the bits revealed as we notice that this one is deaf without hearing aids and that one has dementia, or the other one had a stroke and has limited movements, or another broke a hip in a fall. Meal times are almost completely silent, and the food isn’t all that appetizing so we don’t want to linger anyway. We mostly stay in our rooms except for therapy time with TVs blaring and interruptions to get meds or have our vitals checked yet again. And of course, in therapy, we see how very different we are. It’s isolating and lonely. Guess that’s great incentive to work hard and get home stronger and able to stay there.