One, two, and finally number three

    I went to my third and final inpatient hospital back in August of 2010. I stayed there until September of that same year.  I needed the last hospital ("National Rehab Hospital" in Washington DC) to re-learn (but not limited to), walking, eating, using the bathroom, and social skills. No kidding, I pretty much re-learned all the stages of life. Starting as a newborn and ending with being a grown-up. At times it was pretty frustrating... who am I kidding, it was a huge struggle. After  2-3 years I made it through the re-learning phase of "being an adult."
     During the new born stage of life all babies start of wearing diapers. I also wore diapers for about a month and a half after the accident. I did not have control over my bladder.
      I remember this one time after using the bed pan (which was pretty full of urine). I reached for, and pressed the button that paged the nurse on shift. Well lets just say it felt like eternity and she (I'm pretty sure they only had female nurses working on my floor) was not moving fast enough for my impatient self (I'll tell you more about the patients part later on in this post), so of course I decided to take things into my own hands. Yup, you guessed it,  I decided to move the bed pan (which was directly underneath me) myself. Urine spilled all over my sheets. When the nurse came into my room, lets just say she was not to impressed. She had to roll me on to my side to change my sheets. She was cleaning the mess I made while she was in the middle of rounds.
     Lets now move on to the eating stage. According to this web site http://www.babycenter.com/0_age-by-age-guide-to-feeding-your-baby_1400680.bc, babies can start a "thick diet." The diet which includes oatmeal, around the age of 6 months. As they get older, they move from oatmeal to more solid foods like hot dogs or chicken nuggets.
        When I finally passed my "Barium Swallow test," I was put on a "thick diet."  A powder was added to my drinks in order to thicken the liquid. For solid food I was given foods that were soft and easy to chew.
       My doctors felt like I wasn't ready to be on a regular diet that consisted of thin liquids such as water, juice, or milk. They were so afraid I would aspirate, or choke on my own vomit.
        When I could finally eat again, I ate and drank so fast that it was not uncommon for me to choke (the doctors theory on me choking was right. The only difference was I never aspirated. After I was done choking, I would have cough attacks (oddly enough, I would have sneeze attacks too. I could sneeze for a good minute straight). After about 8ish months my brain finally figured out how to safely eat and my choking finally subsided.
     My toddler phase would be best represented by re-learning how to walk. The second picture that I added to this post, is a picture of me with a belt around my waste (I was also eating a "Zebra cake" by Little Debbie. FYI, "Zebra Cakes are one of my all time favorite junk foods). Well the belt was used by the Physical Therapist. She would stand behind me, while holding on to the belt around my waist to help prevent me from falling.
         When I first started walking, I used a quad cane.  I left the hospital still using a quad cane and continued to use that type of cane for 4-5 months. When my outpatient Physical Therapist felt like it was safe for me to use a regular cane, I chose a pink metallic one. I got the pink cane, firstly to support the Susan G Koman breast cancer awareness fund and secondly, because it was a girly. If I had to use a cane, might as well get a super girly one and rock it!
     Now moving on. The dreaded teenage years. As I would call it, my impatient phase. From what I've experienced (when I was a teenager) and seen, most teenagers want what they want, and they want it now (or they wanted it like yesterday). I've always struggled with patients (the brain injury amplified my inpatients). I can think of two main instances that resemble my impatience.
     The first one deals with my sleeping (or lack of sleeping). I was on two different sleeping medications (one, so I would fall a-sleep and the other was so I would stay a sleep). Even with the sleeping meds, I was only able to get around 3 hours of sleep each night. My day would start at 1 in the morning and end around 10ish at night. Once I was up, I rarely fell back to sleep. At one in the morning, I was ready for breakfast and Therapy. The only problem was, breakfast was at 8ish and therapy started at 9. So I did a lot of laying around in my hospital bed (boring).
    I had a hard time keeping still. I couldn't hold my body still for more than 30 seconds without moving a body part, or scratching an itch I thought I had on my face. I remember timing myself, to see how long I could go without having to fidget. I tried to stay completely still for a minute (that was torture). I wanted to move but I would force myself to stay still.
    Eventually the constant "need" to move, went away, and I was able to get back to "normal" (I'm not sure what the word "normal" even means. Honestly, I don't know if anyone can correctly define that word). I re-learned how to calm my body and keep my motions under control.
     The "adult phase." I think the hardest part of being an adult was excepting the fact that (at that time) I had two little girls. I remember seeing these two beautiful little girls coming to see me. I remembered who they were and I remembered having them (I have the scars to prove it). The scary part was, I didn't feel anything for them (which doesn't surprise me because I didn't know emotions at that point). As a mother, that's heart breaking to even think about. Heck its heart breaking to even say. So, for about 6-8 months I had to re-learn how to love my kids.
     I'm going to get slightly off track for just a minute. I just wanted to add the poem I had written back in February of 2010 (just five months before the accident). I had written this for one of my college classes. Along with the poem, I wrote on a piece of paper my bank account and bill information (I put it in an envelope and put it in a box with all my important documents dealing with the kids and house).
       The reason I had done this was in case anything had ever happened to me. My husband would then have access to all the bills and my accounts. It's almost as if I knew something bad was about to happen. It gives me chills even thinking about it.
                                                    


In case you can't read the poem:   Without Her



                His foot hits the ground as he steps out from the car

      He looks behind him to see the other cars lined up along the curb
            He forces his feet in a forward motion towards the porch
                He stands outside the door unable to grab the handle
                     The fear of emptiness enters into his heart
          This will be the first time being in the house without her
              The first time having family and friends gathered without her
                            The first time living life without her
    As he loves her from a distance while the earth consumes her body