I was transferred once again. My older brother, a physician, came to keep me company while Eric was going to work, and to help Eric take care of me. I was assigned operational, physical and speech therapists. Whatsapp and my new smart phone were great contributions: I could talk to my mother whenever I needed to, and it was a good help; and two of my friends in Argentina religiously sent me texts or voice messages, which made me feel supported.
This time the blood in my brain reabsorbed quite fast, and my cognitive ability slowly improved. Since the exercises were successful, the therapists decided that I could be discharged after I’d regained some of my abilities. A week later, Eric and I were taught the “dance” to help me to transfer in and out of the bathtub and the car. On the expected morning, my brother and I would wait for Eric to pick us up, and the two of them would take care of the paperwork. Discharge was fast approaching!