Going Home After Rehab


10 Jan
10Jan

After everything I went through in 2 months I wanted to go home (11/17/2016-1/10/2017). I was lucky to be able to visit with my family and friends but I wanted to be in my OWN home. Believe it or not I wanted to hear the ruckus from my children teasing and chasing the dogs. I wanted to hear the boys arguing and doors slamming. I wanted my husband to ask me what I was cooking for dinner. I wanted to watch my elderly and smelly cookapoodle try to get on the couch to sit next to me. What I wanted the most was to smell my children's hair after their showers before bed. Or my husband sharing a blanket with me on the couch. Thinking about those things everyday while hospitalized led to many emotions. Sometimes I would cry or feel sorry for myself; other times I would push myself harder during physical therapy. 


My last admission was 12/15/2016 (my second time at the rehab hospital). I wanted to leave the day before Christmas Eve so I would be home for Christmas, I even made a nail appointment for that day. The doctors and case manger consulted with my family and they agreed I was not well enough to go home. I was devastated. I was so upset thinking I would ruin Christmas for my children. A few times the same comments were mentioned that a healthy mom for life was more important than one holiday. So, I gave in, I agreed to a few more weeks. I was granted a room change with no roommate which was great. But I still was sad and lonely and threw myself a pity party when I was alone (ordering subs and pizza and watching Lifetime). I cried at the drop of a hat; which led to another diagnosis of Pseudobulbar palsy and more medicine. 


I was sick of crying over things I had no control over and decided to be happy and excited for what I did have control over. The medicine I was given for the emotional outbursts helped my pseudobulbar palsy. I was still feeling guilty for letting my alcoholism put my health at risk and needing to rely on my family to raise my children and my husband to run a household alone.  I worked hard at physical, occupational and speech therapy. I woke up early everyday and bathed and dressed myself before the change of shifts at 7AM. I ate all my meals starting with the veggies first. I regained 80% of my strength I was told by my Neurologist at my first follow up appointment on 12/29/2016. Everyday I pushed myself harder. I would find one thing that I did that day that I could not do the day before, even little things like make a ponytail. 


1/8/2017- I started packing up all the clutter I had accumulated from all my hospitalizations. Clean clothes went in one bag, dirty clothes went in another. I sent my husband home that night with some bags to ease the move on the big day.

1/9/2107- I passed the checklist for occupational therapy (showering and dressing from start to finish). I passed the list for physical therapy (walking up and down stairs, getting in and out of a car, wheeling myself up a ramp, walking with a walker for 150 feet without falling). Speech was easy that day, I had to read a few articles and pronounce everything clearly (I was given a 98). Before my husband went home that night I walked alone around my room (must have been all the excitement).

1/10/2017- My husband arrived and packed the rest of my belongings into the car. The nurses and staff received their Edible Arrangements I ordered. I said my goodbyes and went home. Did I forget to mention that I had terribly swollen ankles and feet for a few weeks, with no concrete cause. I was put on lasix, there is a joke that going pee nonstop lasts six hours (it's not funny when the car ride is 55 minutes long). 


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