Daughter found a doctor from a rehab hospital in New Jersey. Suddenly I was in a wheel chair going down the hall to a private room. I knew nothing. Every day daughter and granddaughter came to visit after school with a present, something fresh to wear. We watched Dirty Dancing on a small DVD. They left. I heard words like make sure you give her a shower. Somehow I gathered it meant I should be clean; me the Mrs. Clean since I was a child but not now. I glanced around the room so fresh and pretty. Just me and two beds. Everyone exuded kindness. At last I felt kindness inside of me break through just a little bit. I tried to be a person but didn’t know how.
The wheelchair was a strange thing. I learned to use it; forced myself to use it to go the bathroom. Carefully, I slid from the bed onto the seat and worked my way to the small bathroom. With great effort, I opened the door and went in; somehow used my arms to pull me up and sit. The more I did, the excited I became to do this small task. My face felt excellent after a light wash and then a brush of teeth. Imagine that. A miracle. Slowly I returned to the bed, laid down with great care and slept.
The one thing I remembered was to smile. I smiled and did the rehab exercises, painful as they were. I smiled until the physical therapist tried to get me to stand. Then I cried. She worked hard. I worked hard. Several weeks went by and I was able to stand and tried to walk.
I’m so pleased to share this with all of you. It’s tough to be alone on your own battlefield