No place like a brand new home


Last night was my first night home. I didn’t expect to feel as guilty about requiring help as I did. Any time I had to ask for anything it was immediately followed by an apology. Husband was wonderful, but exhausted from moving all day  … probably why I felt like such an asshole. Slept poorly. Forgot how loud the saw mill that comes out of his mouth can be. My awesome mattress killed my lower back. I was over heated under to heavy a comforter. Went to sleep at 10, woke up at 1am, watched Vinyl until 2:30 (awesome show! ) back to bed, then up at 8. It seems the only piece of furniture that I’m kinda comfy in is my wheelchair, couch hurts my back and is too soft to get out of by myself. My good comforter will be brought over tomorrow, yay! The rest of your my mobility aids arrive Monday,including better wheelchair.

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We call this our stripper pole. It helps me get out of bed easier. I’m  looking forward to less pain soon. We lit a fire last night in our new fireplace.

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Tilted pictures due to one handed photographer using tablet. Hubby spent the day today continuing to unpack and made a big dent, while I tried to be more independent. Succeeded somewhat. This will just take some getting used to. Tomorrow my parents come by with the rest of my stuff from the hospital. We’re having lunch and they get to see the place. Hoping tomorrow will be that much easier. I know Monday will be. I love my new place, now I just have to figure out how to best live in it.

The above was the thoughts of an impatient woman in a body that requires infinite patience.

Two


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Getting down to the wire now. Only two more sleeps until I am finally home! I just hope my back can take the lumps  … literally.  Worst ‘mattress ‘ever!

This weekend promises to be a good one, filled with snuggles, catching up on TV, a visit from the folks to see the new place and a visit from Roz,who will honour us with a bottle of wine. Ah, to be human again! I might not be as physically capable as I once was, but ironically I’m in better shape  … stronger, more endurance, mentally tougher and more determined to live my life.  Welcome to the silver lining.

24 hours to go


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The Ramones

 

Don’t wanna be sedated.  Too excited!

This time tomorrow I will be free from hospital rules. Able to leave my house without having to ask a nurse permission to go downstairs, or to unlock the door. Coming and going as I please will be a real thrill. I might just roll in and out of the entrance chanting ‘I can go in, I can go out ‘ like Frank Burns from M.A.S.H.

I can’t wipe this big shit eating grin off my face!

Can’t wait to live in fresh non-recycled air with humidity. Can’t wait to get a mani pedi and leg wax. Can’t wait to FINALLY consummate my marriage.  Not necessarily in that order 😃

To put it simply, I can’t wait to live my life!  Whatever form that takes.

Finally, a great big thanks to all of you who stayed for this part of my journey. It means a lot. Let’s hope the next bit will be a bit more fun.

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I’m grateful but after more than 6 months … well,you know  …

ONE MORE SLEEP!

if I can sleep, maybe I do wanna be sedated 😊

Three


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Three more sleeps until home!

I’m so happy my husband and I  were smart enough to keep a nest egg from the sale of our house. It means we can afford to buy all of the mobility aids I now require. Since I’ve officially been turned down for long term disability and getting any money from EI (that’s the Canadian equivalent of UI) is still being decided ,it’s a relief to know there’s some money to buy grab bars, a bath lift and both a manual and power wheelchairs. That stuff is hella pricey. It’s almost as if all physically disabled people are rich or something!

What really sucks is all the people with chronic ‘back pain ‘ on long term disability, while I was turned down because I live with someone who works.  Even though I am, by any definition, physically disabled for the foreseeable future.

So, it looks like I’m looking for a job answering phones or doing data entry with my one usable hand, or welfare. While I am truly grateful to the provincial medical service plan for paying for my care, I’m furious at the province for not helping me when I need it most.

The indignity just keeps coming!

 

THREE!

Fore!


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I’m not a golfer but my parents have a gorgeous condo overlooking the 9th hole of a beautiful course, with the Pacific in the background, it’s a truly unique view. They’re on the course a few times a week during spring, summer and fall and they love it.

The title of this post refers to the fact that I have only 4 more sleeps till home! This week, my goal is to get as much exercise as possible with physio and just daily tasks. I won’t have the luxury of physio at home, but my husband was taught how to help me ‘walk’, I just want to find a senior center that has a gym I can use to keep working my legs. Senior center because I will need help getting onto the machines as well as off of them.

Life has become unrecognizable to me. So much planning needed, time, effort, accessibility all play such a huge part in an outing. There’s no such thing as a quick trip anywhere, least of all the bathroom. A trip across the hall to the toilet takes 10 to 15 minutes! And it’s physically taxing. I will say I’m happy to have lost 35 pounds during my stay here, as it makes things easier and less time consuming.

It’s a luxury not to need any help from the nurses, though they keep trying. I’ve almost got Mom trained not to offer help, but wait until I ask. Husband will take a little longer. He can be just a tad impatient from time to time. But they just need to remember that I won’t improve unless I can do things without help.

One of the silver linings of being hospitalized for this long is I had to learn to ask for help and be okay with it. Though it does still bug me that I have to ask here and there but only because people are so happy to be asked that they try to help too much. Example, today I had to ring the nurse to brace my left foot as I stood up from the toilet, that was literally all I needed. Before I could stop her, she had pulled up my pants and undies. Then she grabbed my arms as if to help me into the wheelchair, this was the point where I stopped her politely saying that all I required was bracing my foot and while I appreciate the extras, they’re not necessary, and at this point detrimental to my improving. I feel badly that she pouted, but this is a therapy floor and getting better is the goal. If you know nothing else about me, know that I achieve my goals as quickly as possible.

 

FOUR!

Let the countdown begin


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Tonight marks 5 more sleeps until home. Getting moody,really antsy to get out of here. Looking forward to the weekend when I get to try the chilli my husband has been bragging about, get to snuggle in front of our new wood burning fireplace, get to catch up on all the TV I missed, get to sleep on the most comfortable mattress, get to hear the sounds of silence as I rub my husband’s head, get to finally relax after half a year of medical stress . My exhale will be so big, Leonardo de Caprio will feel global warming coming from Canada for the second time.

Where’s my million bucks?


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My favourite guilty pleasure is watching the show Survivor. I started with season 2 and haven’t missed an episode yet. So last night I watched a new group of contestants whine,whinge a blubber their way through 90 minutes of what used to be phenomenal TV and I couldn’t help thinking, THESE PEOPLE ARE SUCH PUSSIES!

They only have to put up with 39 days of heat, humidity and stressful conditions and on day ONE, they’re complaining?  Try 6 months and 2 days being ‘cared for ‘by, for the most part, idiots, being given medication that backfires, learning to stand, walk and go to the toilet, having nurses so obsessed with your poop schedule that your bowels shut down, accessing a paralyzed leg one muscle at a time, and all after 3 months in bed recovering from open heart surgery. Not to mention losing use of one arm for the rest of your life, losing your job and going broke . But I’m not and never have I had a pity party, never said why me. As soon as I was able, I pushed myself past limits, reached physical goals ahead of time and kept moving forward, and still am moving forward, and will continue to move forward until my body screams no more.

If anyone deserves a million bucks, it’s me!  But unlike Kanye West, who is 53 million in debt and begging Mark Zuckerberg for 1 billion dollars, I am just happy to still be alive.

This season’s contestants truly need to suck it up and get determined . Show us the best you have as opposed to crying over a tiny bug in the ear or being away from home to impress me.

There is one shining possibility this season. His name is Joseph del Campo and at 72 years of age he made the youngsters on his tribe look like they were couch potatoes.