My first time at home was hard. As I mentioned before, my brain had a long way to go before being healed, and because of that, I had no control over my limbs or my abdominal muscles. But still, I wanted to recover the use of my body. The facility’s therapists had given me a long list of exercises to do. Despite the tiredness caused by Kepra, another of its side effects (my body had adjusted to it, but not quite), I wanted to do the most I could. When the neurologist had mentioned I was determined, I told him that “determined” was a euphemism for “stubborn” (one thing that I’d acquired with the brain injury was wit). I was very stubborn, which could be a disadvantage, but also be an advantage. So, I kept at it – breathing, swallowing, singing, reading, and closing and opening my left hand (or trying, at least).
I was eager to walk; walking (with a crutch, of course) would let me leave the wheelchair, and therefore give me a sense of autonomy. So, I added walking to my exercises, alternating with pedaling the bike at Eric’s insistence – against my protests, he claimed that despite their hurting my left leg a lot, the electrodes replaced my brain by stimulating my leg muscles, and would strengthen my legs and help them move. At first I used the bar on the deck to replace the forearm crutch, because using the crutch to walk required Eric’s help, and I couldn’t take that much of his time. And I refused to wear the cast (my stubbornness, again) to force my leg muscles to work to lock my knee.
Then, when the fall was reaching its end, Eric built a wooden contraption that had bars (made of stair banisters) and two-by-two pieces of pine wood (that stood on the bar) so as to avoid my walking outside on cold, rainy, or snowy days. At the suggestion of one of our nurse aids and Nathan, he added a harness and a zip line so I could walk every other day and alternate it with pedaling the bike. One morning I was walking, I suddenly realized I could lock my knee! Success encouraged me to do it every day, and I’m still doing it today. Now we’ve added the use of the crutch without the bar and with Eric’s help, when he has the time. But that’s going very slowly because I’m still very scared of falling.
I was eager to walk; walking (with a crutch, of course) would let me leave the wheelchair, and therefore give me a sense of autonomy. So, I added walking to my exercises, alternating with pedaling the bike at Eric’s insistence – against my protests, he claimed that despite their hurting my left leg a lot, the electrodes replaced my brain by stimulating my leg muscles, and would strengthen my legs and help them move. At first I used the bar on the deck to replace the forearm crutch, because using the crutch to walk required Eric’s help, and I couldn’t take that much of his time. And I refused to wear the cast (my stubbornness, again) to force my leg muscles to work to lock my knee.
Then, when the fall was reaching its end, Eric built a wooden contraption that had bars (made of stair banisters) and two-by-two pieces of pine wood (that stood on the bar) so as to avoid my walking outside on cold, rainy, or snowy days. At the suggestion of one of our nurse aids and Nathan, he added a harness and a zip line so I could walk every other day and alternate it with pedaling the bike. One morning I was walking, I suddenly realized I could lock my knee! Success encouraged me to do it every day, and I’m still doing it today. Now we’ve added the use of the crutch without the bar and with Eric’s help, when he has the time. But that’s going very slowly because I’m still very scared of falling.
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