At the same time, I was going to the facility as an outpatient. There, I was learning how to swallow, speak, walk (with a cast, to prevent my left knee from buckling, and the physical therapist’s help), balance with my core, and use my left and right hands. Thanks to all the exercises I persistently did, I was gradually entering the adult world. Moreover, the blood in my brain was reabsorbing very slowly, so I was realizing I was having confused thoughts and fantasies. Yet, my cognitive ability continued to be diminished (and still is today, although it has quite improved), which caused me to misunderstand and forget. My brothers had to explain things to me over and over, and things would slip my mind like grains of sand in one’s fingers.
But I kept going to the facility and practicing, and improved very, very slowly. After a while, my writing became legible, and I was able to put on a coat with great effort. I could pinch with my left thumb, and let the pill jar go with the help of the occupational therapist. And I could breathe, speak, and swallow. My body still tilted sideways, but I didn’t fall. I had to keep wearing the brace because I couldn’t lock my knee, so I needed help. Yet, the therapists’ threshold wasn’t that high, so they decided to give Eric and me a six-to-nine-month hiatus.