One of my first memories was walking down a garden path with
my nurse. I kept complaining about not
being able to breathe and my nurse said, “We can fix that.” She pulled out my tracheostomy
and handed it to me. I swore that dream was real, I even argued with the
doctors and nurses, “I didn’t pull out my trach!” The good news was that I
didn’t need it anymore. That dream was very real to me and to this day I can’t believe
I pulled out my own trach.
Then there was therapy. At first I wasn’t keen about it. I
complained about every pain, saying I couldn’t do therapy because it hurts too
much. I bet my therapists loved me. Then during the October family meeting my
therapists asked when I wanted to be discharged. We decided the goal was Christmas
and that put a fire under me! Suddenly I was doing everything to make my goal.
I should mention that I had family at Texas NeuroRehab
Center, my sister-in-law works there. She handpicked all my therapists for me.
That is good and bad. Whenever I did something new my sister-in-law knew it
before I told her. Plus she and my brother were policing me, making sure I did
everything I was supposed to. I remember getting mad at them one evening
because I was eating my dinner in bed even though I was supposed to eat all my
meals in my wheelchair. They started to tell my tech that I am to eat in my
wheelchair. I yelled at them saying that I decide where I eat and if Joy (my
speech therapist) doesn’t like that it is between me and her, not them. The
tech had not seen me angry and he wasn’t sure what to do. I told him to go as I
was not going to change where I was eating. After that argument the tech teased
me saying he doesn’t want to get me mad.
By the time December came around I was a model patient,
everyone knew my name and loved working with me (at least that’s what I think).
I was determined to get discharged the Friday before Christmas, and I did.
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