Earlier this week and then again this weekend, I finally got up the nerve to take public transit. This would be the first time doing so since having surgery, meaning it was the first time while on crutches. I've been hopping on and off subways and streetcars for over 8 years now but like so many things that once came naturally to me, it too is now a challenge or at the very least a new adventure for me.
There were several contributing factors that made me hesitant to try the subway in my current state. For starters, the sheer number of people I'd encounter and have to deal with. Everyone has somewhere to be and the majority of them, whether intentional or not, are vaguely aware of anything or anyone around them. I worry that someone may push/trip me or one of my crutches. The subway doors are something else that make me nervous. I fear the doors might close on me, it's not like I can run or hop to get out of the way. At the same time, I know I won't be trying to make any last minute attempts to get on before the doors close, I'll wait for the next train. A continuation from my previous post, I'm worried about the floors and stairs being slippery on rainy days. And speaking of stairs, the station closest to my house is not wheelchair accessible so it doesn't have an elevator. There is an escalator that goes up but unfortunately that is the only one. This means I have no choice but to take the staircase down to the subway, actually two staircases down. In addition to this taking a lot of energy on my part, I fear it's another opportunity for me to be pushed. My last hesitation has to do with streetcars. Stepping on and off the streetcar is far from a memorable experience. Therefore, it is no surprise I can't recall how high the first step is, nor can anyone else I asked. Buses have the ability to "kneel" so I have no doubt I can manage there, streetcars however do not and are much higher off the ground. I didn't want to be on my way somewhere only to get to a streetcar and not be able to get on, and if I managed that, get off.
My first subway ride was alone. As luck would have it, it was raining that day. Thankfully I was able to wipe of the ends of my crutches so they weren't wet and for the most part non of the floors were really wet either. I was extra cautious watching where I stepped and made it the entire trip without even the slightest slip. I did my best to avoid the large crowds, traveled between rush hours and waited off to the side after getting off the train letting the majority of people pass before I made my way to the escalator. The one issue I hadn't thought of in advance has to do with getting off the subway. I can't stand up before the train comes to a complete stop. At first this may not seem like a big deal because honestly, there's plenty of time and in the past I rarely got up before it stopped. The problem is I can't just stand up and walk out the door. I carefully get up while balancing on my left foot and have to get the crutches under each arm before I can move, this takes some time. Finally I can make my way to the door and hopefully there is no one blocking my path. I'm thinking I may have to try getting up while the train is stopped one station before where I'm getting off. Then I'll just hang on, and maybe hope for the best as it moves, and I'll be up and ready when the doors open at my stop.
I tried taking the streetcar this weekend but not on my own. Like I said, I didn't want to end up stranded. Something I had not considered, and most likely neither have you, there are two types of streetcar stops. Ones where you board the streetcar right from the road and others where there is a platform of sorts. Stops where the streetcar comes into a subway station or where there is a streetcar "lane" down the middle of a road all have platforms. They are only about the height of a curb, give or take a little, but this cuts the first step onto the streetcar in half. Fortunate for me, the route we took this weekend consisted only of the platform type stops. Although this does mean I still have no idea whether I can get on and off a streetcar from ground level. An adventure for another day I guess.
Monday 31 October 2011
Tuesday 25 October 2011
Enough Rain Already
Is it just me or has there been an exceptionally large number of rainy days this month?!
I have never been a fan of rain or humidity. Having pretty curly hair, and a lot of it, this particular weather has always been my enemy. Even the hint of humidity in the air would turn my hair into a frizzy mess, even if it was pulled back in a ponytail. This was something that did not elude me while going through chemo and I was completely bald. For once I did not dread the rain and humidity. The weather could do what it liked, I had no hair to mess up. Even now, my hair is still short enough that the weather can't do much to it.
Despite my short hair, my hatred for the rain has returned. My problem now is the inability to carry an umbrella. I've tried playing around with different umbrellas to see if there was a way but even ones with a curled handle don't work out. The best I can do is wear a raincoat. The outer shell of my ski/board jacket is waterproof, so I've been wearing that on rainy days. It's not as effective as an umbrella, especially if I want to carry a bag, but it's better than nothing. However, this is just issue one I have with the rain.
Issue two is more of a safety concern. Rain actually terrifies me. I understand how ridiculous this sounds but there's a perfectly rational explanation behind it. The rubber ends of my crutches are great and have fantastic grip... when they are dry. Add water to the mix and they are an accident waiting to happen. There are dangers and hazards everywhere. Just walking down the sidewalk or crossing the street, manholes and any other metal covers become extremely slippery in the rain. With each step I have to be aware of not only where my foot is landing but also where I place my crutches.
Now lets assume I have made it to my destination without incident. Nearly all public places/stores, with the exception of maybe some offices, have tile or hardwood flooring. It's the perfect choice for such high traffic areas, easy to clean. Unfortunately for me, wet rubber has little to no hold on smooth flooring. My only saving grace is when places have a mat at their entrance. Here I can wipe off the ends of my crutches. I'll stand there for a good minute twisting each crutch into the mat, trying to dry it off as much as possible before I dare step off the mat.
I have yet to take the subway but I'm sure I will sometime soon. I fear the day I have to take it in the rain. Not only will the floors and stairs be slippery, there is no mat to wipe my crutches on, and it already makes me nervous anticipating the number of people that may be hurrying to get around me.
Thankfully I have yet to fall. I'm really hoping to keep that statistic to zero. Twice I have had my crutch slip out from under me because it was wet, both times on the right side. To keep me from falling my right leg instantly had to support much more weight than it's use to. It freaked me out more than it hurt but it definitely wasn't comfortable. I could do without anymore close calls as well.
In conclusion, STOP RAINING!!!!!!
I have never been a fan of rain or humidity. Having pretty curly hair, and a lot of it, this particular weather has always been my enemy. Even the hint of humidity in the air would turn my hair into a frizzy mess, even if it was pulled back in a ponytail. This was something that did not elude me while going through chemo and I was completely bald. For once I did not dread the rain and humidity. The weather could do what it liked, I had no hair to mess up. Even now, my hair is still short enough that the weather can't do much to it.
Despite my short hair, my hatred for the rain has returned. My problem now is the inability to carry an umbrella. I've tried playing around with different umbrellas to see if there was a way but even ones with a curled handle don't work out. The best I can do is wear a raincoat. The outer shell of my ski/board jacket is waterproof, so I've been wearing that on rainy days. It's not as effective as an umbrella, especially if I want to carry a bag, but it's better than nothing. However, this is just issue one I have with the rain.
Issue two is more of a safety concern. Rain actually terrifies me. I understand how ridiculous this sounds but there's a perfectly rational explanation behind it. The rubber ends of my crutches are great and have fantastic grip... when they are dry. Add water to the mix and they are an accident waiting to happen. There are dangers and hazards everywhere. Just walking down the sidewalk or crossing the street, manholes and any other metal covers become extremely slippery in the rain. With each step I have to be aware of not only where my foot is landing but also where I place my crutches.
Now lets assume I have made it to my destination without incident. Nearly all public places/stores, with the exception of maybe some offices, have tile or hardwood flooring. It's the perfect choice for such high traffic areas, easy to clean. Unfortunately for me, wet rubber has little to no hold on smooth flooring. My only saving grace is when places have a mat at their entrance. Here I can wipe off the ends of my crutches. I'll stand there for a good minute twisting each crutch into the mat, trying to dry it off as much as possible before I dare step off the mat.
I have yet to take the subway but I'm sure I will sometime soon. I fear the day I have to take it in the rain. Not only will the floors and stairs be slippery, there is no mat to wipe my crutches on, and it already makes me nervous anticipating the number of people that may be hurrying to get around me.
Thankfully I have yet to fall. I'm really hoping to keep that statistic to zero. Twice I have had my crutch slip out from under me because it was wet, both times on the right side. To keep me from falling my right leg instantly had to support much more weight than it's use to. It freaked me out more than it hurt but it definitely wasn't comfortable. I could do without anymore close calls as well.
In conclusion, STOP RAINING!!!!!!
Wednesday 19 October 2011
Today is My January 1st
I woke up this morning and realized, this is the start of a new year for me. After October 18th last year, almost everything I did or missed out on doing was a direct or indirect result of being diagnosed with cancer. By no means will this coming year be an easy one, there's still the minor detail of learning to walk again, but it's bound to be better than the last. For starters, although it's not medically correct to say it, I'm now cancer free. All scans/tests done since my surgery, including ones done just two weeks ago, have been clear of any signs of the disease. Add to this, I've already begun physiotherapy. That alone seemed so far away when I was lying in the hospital 3 months ago. Finally seeing that the recovery process is under way and I'm headed in the right direction has made it much easier to picture a positive future and outcome.
Much of the last year was a rollercoaster of health. I took a beating with each and every round of chemo, effecting my energy, weight, and overall feeling. Then there was always another solid week of unpleasant side effects to get through. Thankfully there was usually a couple days, up to a week, before the next treatment when I felt a little stronger, ate a little more and felt a little more like myself. But the next round was always just around the corner, ready to kick me back down. Surgery was a similar situation.
What I'm looking forward to most about this new year is the progression, both in my everyday life and at physio. There's no doubt I'll face some challenges, big and small, but that just means I'm trying something new or pushing to the next level. There will be a lot of trial and error involved with much of my rehabilitation but my overall outlook for this year is one of improvement. As far as walking is concerned, it can only get better from here.
This year will likely have just as many memorable moments as last but I hope they are memorable for reasons of accomplishment and celebration. With each new day I plan to, literally, take another step in the right direction. Ultimately heading towards a full recovery.
Much of the last year was a rollercoaster of health. I took a beating with each and every round of chemo, effecting my energy, weight, and overall feeling. Then there was always another solid week of unpleasant side effects to get through. Thankfully there was usually a couple days, up to a week, before the next treatment when I felt a little stronger, ate a little more and felt a little more like myself. But the next round was always just around the corner, ready to kick me back down. Surgery was a similar situation.
What I'm looking forward to most about this new year is the progression, both in my everyday life and at physio. There's no doubt I'll face some challenges, big and small, but that just means I'm trying something new or pushing to the next level. There will be a lot of trial and error involved with much of my rehabilitation but my overall outlook for this year is one of improvement. As far as walking is concerned, it can only get better from here.
This year will likely have just as many memorable moments as last but I hope they are memorable for reasons of accomplishment and celebration. With each new day I plan to, literally, take another step in the right direction. Ultimately heading towards a full recovery.
Tuesday 18 October 2011
Unwanted Anniversary
It has been an extremely long year in so many ways. In others it seems like just the other day I was hearing the word tumor for the first time in reference to myself. It has been a real whirl wind of information, tests, treatments and hospital stays. It's really difficult to summarize the ups and downs of the past year in just one post. Instead of some long winded, never ending ramble, I've decided to go with a count down of my year since being diagnosed with cancer.
365 days since being diagnosed with Ewing's Sarcoma
157 (approx) blue trays delivered / meals provided in the hospital. 47 (approx) of which were actually eaten by me (99% being boxed Rice Krispies cereal for breakfast)
96 staples removed (83 staples after hemi pelvectomy + 13 staples after biopsy)
77 lbs, my body weight low (very scary)
69 days in the hospital (not counting any "day trips" for appointments or tests)
47 different visitors while in hospital, totaling 100s of individual visits
44 get well / thinking of you cards (including 1 GIANT whale card from my coworkers)
40 days of chemotherapy / over 30 weeks / done in 10 rounds
38, the magic number/temperature that meant I had to go straight to the hospital emergency room
35 prescriptions filled
33 blog posts, make that 34
21 insurance claims totaling $38,126.67 - sorry Sun Life (and to think that total doesn't even include everything OHIP covers)
17 days that I kept the diagnosis a secret from friends and coworkers as I waited for more results/details, during which time I continued to go to work and socialize with friends
17 flower bouquets / potted plants
16 hours of surgery (12 hour hemi pelvectomy to remove right half of pelvic bone + 3 hour surgical biopsy to determine type of cancer and stage it + 1 hour, awake, to insert portacath)
11 different head scarfs / hats worn + 1 wig
10 needles at $2,743.65 each
9 "fever watches" (closely monitoring my temperature as it hovered around the edge of having to go into emerg)
9 stuffed animals (3 bears, a kitten, a bunny, a little frog, a ram/mascot named Eggy, a dog named Jellybean, and a giant round monkey I named Paul Winston)
4 personalized t-shirts (thank you girls)
4 MRIs (plus at least 9 other xrays/scans)
3 prayer shawls made for me
3 blood transfusions (8 bags)
2 hospitalization for febrile neutropenia - fever with an abnormally low number of white blood cells (aka a fever after chemo)
2 helium balloons
2 nights spent in the hospital room next to "Mr. Smith" (aka Jack Layton)
1 spa night in the hospital (thanks to my sister)
1 book club in the hospital (it was my turn to host)
1 right hemi pelvectomy (surgery)
0 times throwing up from chemo!!! (just a couple close calls)
It's easy to be overwhelmed by the past year when you focus on all the negative or unfortunate points. However, if you look back over this list you'll see that nearly half the points are positive. Yes there are definitely some negatives from the year that can't be counted and are missing from the list, like the side effects of chemo, but there are just as many positives. Things like celebrating my birthday with a perfect night in with the girls. My boyfriend spending the night at the hospital on a cot set up beside my bed. Showing up to dinner with a friend, only to find out (surprise!) all my friends are there to celebrate the end of my chemo treatments. Or my girlfriends bringing an afternoon on the patio right to my hospital room, complete with food, sunglasses, a make shift sun, and "root"beer. All we can do is make the best of the hand we're dealt and when the situation calls for it, fight. Fight to preserve some of the normalcy in your life. Fight to keep a smile on your face. Fight to survive!
A big thank you to all the friends, family, and medical professionals in my life, I couldn't have made it through the past year without you.
365 days since being diagnosed with Ewing's Sarcoma
157 (approx) blue trays delivered / meals provided in the hospital. 47 (approx) of which were actually eaten by me (99% being boxed Rice Krispies cereal for breakfast)
96 staples removed (83 staples after hemi pelvectomy + 13 staples after biopsy)
77 lbs, my body weight low (very scary)
69 days in the hospital (not counting any "day trips" for appointments or tests)
47 different visitors while in hospital, totaling 100s of individual visits
44 get well / thinking of you cards (including 1 GIANT whale card from my coworkers)
40 days of chemotherapy / over 30 weeks / done in 10 rounds
38, the magic number/temperature that meant I had to go straight to the hospital emergency room
35 prescriptions filled
33 blog posts, make that 34
21 insurance claims totaling $38,126.67 - sorry Sun Life (and to think that total doesn't even include everything OHIP covers)
17 days that I kept the diagnosis a secret from friends and coworkers as I waited for more results/details, during which time I continued to go to work and socialize with friends
17 flower bouquets / potted plants
16 hours of surgery (12 hour hemi pelvectomy to remove right half of pelvic bone + 3 hour surgical biopsy to determine type of cancer and stage it + 1 hour, awake, to insert portacath)
11 different head scarfs / hats worn + 1 wig
10 needles at $2,743.65 each
9 "fever watches" (closely monitoring my temperature as it hovered around the edge of having to go into emerg)
9 stuffed animals (3 bears, a kitten, a bunny, a little frog, a ram/mascot named Eggy, a dog named Jellybean, and a giant round monkey I named Paul Winston)
4 personalized t-shirts (thank you girls)
4 MRIs (plus at least 9 other xrays/scans)
3 prayer shawls made for me
3 blood transfusions (8 bags)
2 hospitalization for febrile neutropenia - fever with an abnormally low number of white blood cells (aka a fever after chemo)
2 helium balloons
2 nights spent in the hospital room next to "Mr. Smith" (aka Jack Layton)
1 spa night in the hospital (thanks to my sister)
1 book club in the hospital (it was my turn to host)
1 right hemi pelvectomy (surgery)
0 times throwing up from chemo!!! (just a couple close calls)
It's easy to be overwhelmed by the past year when you focus on all the negative or unfortunate points. However, if you look back over this list you'll see that nearly half the points are positive. Yes there are definitely some negatives from the year that can't be counted and are missing from the list, like the side effects of chemo, but there are just as many positives. Things like celebrating my birthday with a perfect night in with the girls. My boyfriend spending the night at the hospital on a cot set up beside my bed. Showing up to dinner with a friend, only to find out (surprise!) all my friends are there to celebrate the end of my chemo treatments. Or my girlfriends bringing an afternoon on the patio right to my hospital room, complete with food, sunglasses, a make shift sun, and "root"beer. All we can do is make the best of the hand we're dealt and when the situation calls for it, fight. Fight to preserve some of the normalcy in your life. Fight to keep a smile on your face. Fight to survive!
A big thank you to all the friends, family, and medical professionals in my life, I couldn't have made it through the past year without you.
Thursday 13 October 2011
Physio: Day 1
I finally got the reaction I've been looking for. But I will come back to that in a moment.
Today was my very first physiotherapy appointment since getting out of the hospital. My surgeon gave me the go ahead for physio after my 2 month follow up. He was happy with my recovery so far and determined that the scar tissue had filled in enough and was doing what it needed to for me to progress to the next step, physio and putting weight on my right leg. By no means can I put all my weight on the leg just yet but I have tried putting a little weight on it each day.
I booked my physio appointment last week and have been looking forward to, as well as fearing the appointment ever since. I was excited to start the next part of my recovery and the sooner I started physiotherapy, the sooner I might be walking again. At the same time, the idea of starting physio was a little scary. I know they say the only true failure is never trying, or something like that, but I prefer to try new things on my own. That way if I happen to fail no one sees me. I know they aren't really failures when you're trying to push yourself to the next level of recovery but it's hard to remember that sometimes. Especially when it's something that should be so easy as... well walking. Fear or no fear it was time to start physio.
Now back to the reaction. I brought along a copy of my pelvic xray to give the physiotherapist a better idea/image of what exactly I had done. Yes I had filled in the line on the new patient form that wanted the reason for coming to physio and I could explain, as best I can, what was done, but nothing says it like actually looking at that xray. Her response to seeing the xray was perfect. Exactly what I had been looking for from the xray technicians a month ago. Finally! Even with her training and background, it was like nothing she had ever seen before.
I feel a whole lot better about going to physio now. I really like my physiotherapist. It probably doesn't hurt that she's excited and intrigued by my case. She's young and very nice. She sounds like she knows what she's talking about but wasn't afraid to admit that she wasn't 100% sure what approach to take with me and that she wasn't able to give me a timeline for progression. She wants to get in touch with my surgeon and aquire some more information about the surgery before she can create a complete plan for me. If she had dived right in without hesitation I would have been very sceptical.
The other great thing about this place, other than it's only 215m from my apartment, is they are a collaborative practice that has doctors, chiropractors, a chiropodist/podiatrist, rehabilitative pilates and other specialties. As I progress we'll be able to take advantage of these other areas for my rehabilitation and eventually having a shoe lift made. Although she did joke that she didn't want to share me with anyone else.
I'm sure it will be some time before I have a significant update but as soon as I have anything worth mentioning, I will.
Today was my very first physiotherapy appointment since getting out of the hospital. My surgeon gave me the go ahead for physio after my 2 month follow up. He was happy with my recovery so far and determined that the scar tissue had filled in enough and was doing what it needed to for me to progress to the next step, physio and putting weight on my right leg. By no means can I put all my weight on the leg just yet but I have tried putting a little weight on it each day.
I booked my physio appointment last week and have been looking forward to, as well as fearing the appointment ever since. I was excited to start the next part of my recovery and the sooner I started physiotherapy, the sooner I might be walking again. At the same time, the idea of starting physio was a little scary. I know they say the only true failure is never trying, or something like that, but I prefer to try new things on my own. That way if I happen to fail no one sees me. I know they aren't really failures when you're trying to push yourself to the next level of recovery but it's hard to remember that sometimes. Especially when it's something that should be so easy as... well walking. Fear or no fear it was time to start physio.
Now back to the reaction. I brought along a copy of my pelvic xray to give the physiotherapist a better idea/image of what exactly I had done. Yes I had filled in the line on the new patient form that wanted the reason for coming to physio and I could explain, as best I can, what was done, but nothing says it like actually looking at that xray. Her response to seeing the xray was perfect. Exactly what I had been looking for from the xray technicians a month ago. Finally! Even with her training and background, it was like nothing she had ever seen before.
I feel a whole lot better about going to physio now. I really like my physiotherapist. It probably doesn't hurt that she's excited and intrigued by my case. She's young and very nice. She sounds like she knows what she's talking about but wasn't afraid to admit that she wasn't 100% sure what approach to take with me and that she wasn't able to give me a timeline for progression. She wants to get in touch with my surgeon and aquire some more information about the surgery before she can create a complete plan for me. If she had dived right in without hesitation I would have been very sceptical.
The other great thing about this place, other than it's only 215m from my apartment, is they are a collaborative practice that has doctors, chiropractors, a chiropodist/podiatrist, rehabilitative pilates and other specialties. As I progress we'll be able to take advantage of these other areas for my rehabilitation and eventually having a shoe lift made. Although she did joke that she didn't want to share me with anyone else.
I'm sure it will be some time before I have a significant update but as soon as I have anything worth mentioning, I will.
Monday 10 October 2011
Happy Turkey Day
I'd like to wish all my Canadian readers a Happy Thanksgiving. It may be predictable but in the spirit of the weekend it only seemed appropriate to do a post about what I'm thankful for. Here goes...
- surviving cancer (guess this should probably be #1)
- parents that were there for every chemo treatment, hospital stay and recovery period following each of these
- a brother and sister who in someways had to take a backseat to me and my new diagnosis and who still found time in their busy lives to visit me
- a boyfriend who's had to take on so much more than any should have to
- friends who have gone above and beyond any expectation I may have had
- the kind words, cards and gifts from friends, family and even friends of family, in the hopes of making my days even a little better
- to still have my right leg (5+ years ago, I'm not sure that would be true)
- for progressing in my recovery much faster than any of my doctors anticipated
- to be back in my own apartment
- that doctors believe there is a good chance I'll walk again unassisted one day
- my job is waiting for me when I'm ready to go back
- and because today is only a Canadian holiday, there was still a new episode of Ellen for me to watch today
Saturday 8 October 2011
One is the Loneliest Number
... or is it?
I've been officially on my own since Tuesday at approximately 9-10pm. This made Wednesday the first day in 3 months that I was completely alone. I woke up that morning in such a good mood. It felt fantastic to be back in my own apartment. To have slept in my own bed. To just be on my own. I had time in the morning to eat my breakfast and slowly wake up without anyone trying to strike up a conversation. Too bad this feeling only lasted for a couple hours.
Part of my typically morning routine involves checking my email or going online for some other reason. Unfortunately my internet had not worked since I arrived on Monday, so no email today. I flipped channels on TV for a while and sorted through all my junk mail, little things to keep me busy. It wasn't long before I found myself bored. I had no one to talk to and no internet to communicate with friends. It was the middle of the day so I couldn't even call anyone because I'd be bugging them at work. I started wondering whether this had been a good idea. Maybe I should have stayed at my parents longer?! Maybe I wasn't ready to move back?! What if I needed to move home again in a couple days? All things I really didn't want to believe or consider. I had my answer just a couple hours later.
"Eat yet?" - text from my Dad
ggrrrrr! Yes I had eaten, both breakfast and lunch. I was even considering having another small meal in an hour or so and it was only 1:39pm. My answer was followed by yet another text of questions. I was reminded of how happy I was to be back in my own place and was now anything but lonely.
The following day, Thursday, I received a phone call from my mom around noon. "Just checking in."
Last night, Friday, I got an email from my Dad asking about physio. All in good fun, with a hint of seriousness, this was my response.
"So texts Wednesday. Phone Thursday. Email Friday. Should I expect a telegram or messenger pigeon tomorrow? I'll keep the window open for him."
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the concern. It'd just be nice if my life could go back to normal with the flick of a switch. I'm sure it's going to take a lot more time and adjustment for everyone involved.
I've been officially on my own since Tuesday at approximately 9-10pm. This made Wednesday the first day in 3 months that I was completely alone. I woke up that morning in such a good mood. It felt fantastic to be back in my own apartment. To have slept in my own bed. To just be on my own. I had time in the morning to eat my breakfast and slowly wake up without anyone trying to strike up a conversation. Too bad this feeling only lasted for a couple hours.
Part of my typically morning routine involves checking my email or going online for some other reason. Unfortunately my internet had not worked since I arrived on Monday, so no email today. I flipped channels on TV for a while and sorted through all my junk mail, little things to keep me busy. It wasn't long before I found myself bored. I had no one to talk to and no internet to communicate with friends. It was the middle of the day so I couldn't even call anyone because I'd be bugging them at work. I started wondering whether this had been a good idea. Maybe I should have stayed at my parents longer?! Maybe I wasn't ready to move back?! What if I needed to move home again in a couple days? All things I really didn't want to believe or consider. I had my answer just a couple hours later.
"Eat yet?" - text from my Dad
ggrrrrr! Yes I had eaten, both breakfast and lunch. I was even considering having another small meal in an hour or so and it was only 1:39pm. My answer was followed by yet another text of questions. I was reminded of how happy I was to be back in my own place and was now anything but lonely.
The following day, Thursday, I received a phone call from my mom around noon. "Just checking in."
Last night, Friday, I got an email from my Dad asking about physio. All in good fun, with a hint of seriousness, this was my response.
"So texts Wednesday. Phone Thursday. Email Friday. Should I expect a telegram or messenger pigeon tomorrow? I'll keep the window open for him."
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the concern. It'd just be nice if my life could go back to normal with the flick of a switch. I'm sure it's going to take a lot more time and adjustment for everyone involved.
Wednesday 5 October 2011
The Great Escape
I officially ran away from home. Well not so much ran as got a ride. Where did I run to? MY home! I finally made the move back to my own apartment. I've been living at my parents' house since being discharged from the hospital following surgery. It's been 3 months since my surgery and a little over 2 months living at my parents. When I was 18 I moved away from home to attend university and the plan was never to move back in. It's no secret, life doesn't always go as planned and we are forced to make new plans.
I had been more than ready to move out of my parents' for quite some time. Unfortunately that's not the same as being ready to move back into my apartment alone. First I needed to build up more strength and be able to make and carry all my meals. And perhaps most importantly, I had to convince my parents that I was ready to move back and live alone. Over time, primarily this past week, I proved that I could cook meals for myself. I got my own drinks and occasionally carried my own plate. Like I stated in my previous post, I drove. Not that this was a requirement, I don't have a car here, but it did show that I was getting stronger. I also worked out solutions to a couple issues I was going to run into. Thankfully I have a great boyfriend who is willing to do my grocery shopping. If I have the energy I can certainly go with him but there's no way I'd be able to carry the groceries home. Laundry may be a bit of a challenge but I'm lucky to have my own machines which means I don't have to carry it down the street or anything like that. I have a walker here and hopefully I can set my basket on it and push/carry it that way. My parents had one last test for me before I was allowed to leave. They made me lay on the floor and then get up again. The reason behind this was to see if I could get up from the ground if I fell. With that successful demonstration I was allowed to leave.
Making the move back was going to take some extra planning and participation from more than just me.
Saturday - Monday
Packing. It's not that I had a whole lot to pack but I thought it best to spread it out over a couple days. My energy level still leaves much to be desired so I tire easily. Not to mention i don't enjoy packing so I get distracted easily and find excuses to do something else, so starting early is always a good idea.
Sunday
Grocery Shopping. I asked my mom to take me grocery shopping so I could stock my apartment with food. It's much easier and I can buy many more groceries with a vehicle than trying to carry the groceries home. Deciding to do the shopping while still at my parents' was to save my Dad from having to take me shopping when we got here, he would be driving me to my apartment. It's not that he wouldn't have taken me but I'm sure it's not his favourite thing to do. The hardest part about shopping in advance was having no idea what I did or did not have in my cupboards or how much room I had in my freezer.
Monday
Moving Day. Most of this day was spent finishing up my packing. I wouldn't be much help loading the truck so I left that up to my Dad. He and I left after dinner and made the 2 hour drive to my apartment. While he unloaded the truck, starting with the coolers and bags of food, I unpacked all my groceries. Following this all that was left for me to do was unpack a suite case, I was sending it back with my Dad. There was more to unpack but I could do that slowly throughout the week. His list was a little longer. I asked him to unhook the automatic closing system on my screen door. With this engaged it was very difficult for me to come in and out through the door. Requiring one hand to hold the door open left me a hand short to effectively use my crutches. Next my Dad went about putting together my shower transfer bench (I can't get in and out of the shower without it) and installing the arms onto my toilet (these make it easier for me to balance).
Tuesday
Doctors Appointment and More Apartment Alterations. It was a long day at the hospital, 8am to 3pm, with a 2 hour window mid day when we had a chance to grab food. For the record, there was nothing but good news! Back at my apartment there were a couple more changes to be made. The door to my laundry room is also self closing so my Dad installed a flip down door stop. Problem solved, right? No! It's easy enough to kick the stop down with my crutch but much more difficult to flip it back up. In anticipation of this problem he drilled a hole in the door stop before we left on Monday. He looped a string through the hole and then tied the other end to the door knob. Now I can pull the door stop back up using the string. The last thing he put up was a towel hook in my bathroom. I have a towel rack only feet away on the wall opposite the sink but I can't reach it without using my crutches which isn't ideal with wet hands. Now I have a hand towel right beside the sink. My place was finally "Jen ready". I can't tell you how many times my Dad asked if I was sure there was nothing else I needed him to do before he left. You can't blame him, me moving isn't just a big step for me but for my parents as well. I'm sure they're worried.
The last couple day have been pretty busy, especially compared to my normal routine, but I'm finally on my own.
I had been more than ready to move out of my parents' for quite some time. Unfortunately that's not the same as being ready to move back into my apartment alone. First I needed to build up more strength and be able to make and carry all my meals. And perhaps most importantly, I had to convince my parents that I was ready to move back and live alone. Over time, primarily this past week, I proved that I could cook meals for myself. I got my own drinks and occasionally carried my own plate. Like I stated in my previous post, I drove. Not that this was a requirement, I don't have a car here, but it did show that I was getting stronger. I also worked out solutions to a couple issues I was going to run into. Thankfully I have a great boyfriend who is willing to do my grocery shopping. If I have the energy I can certainly go with him but there's no way I'd be able to carry the groceries home. Laundry may be a bit of a challenge but I'm lucky to have my own machines which means I don't have to carry it down the street or anything like that. I have a walker here and hopefully I can set my basket on it and push/carry it that way. My parents had one last test for me before I was allowed to leave. They made me lay on the floor and then get up again. The reason behind this was to see if I could get up from the ground if I fell. With that successful demonstration I was allowed to leave.
Making the move back was going to take some extra planning and participation from more than just me.
Saturday - Monday
Packing. It's not that I had a whole lot to pack but I thought it best to spread it out over a couple days. My energy level still leaves much to be desired so I tire easily. Not to mention i don't enjoy packing so I get distracted easily and find excuses to do something else, so starting early is always a good idea.
Sunday
Grocery Shopping. I asked my mom to take me grocery shopping so I could stock my apartment with food. It's much easier and I can buy many more groceries with a vehicle than trying to carry the groceries home. Deciding to do the shopping while still at my parents' was to save my Dad from having to take me shopping when we got here, he would be driving me to my apartment. It's not that he wouldn't have taken me but I'm sure it's not his favourite thing to do. The hardest part about shopping in advance was having no idea what I did or did not have in my cupboards or how much room I had in my freezer.
Monday
Moving Day. Most of this day was spent finishing up my packing. I wouldn't be much help loading the truck so I left that up to my Dad. He and I left after dinner and made the 2 hour drive to my apartment. While he unloaded the truck, starting with the coolers and bags of food, I unpacked all my groceries. Following this all that was left for me to do was unpack a suite case, I was sending it back with my Dad. There was more to unpack but I could do that slowly throughout the week. His list was a little longer. I asked him to unhook the automatic closing system on my screen door. With this engaged it was very difficult for me to come in and out through the door. Requiring one hand to hold the door open left me a hand short to effectively use my crutches. Next my Dad went about putting together my shower transfer bench (I can't get in and out of the shower without it) and installing the arms onto my toilet (these make it easier for me to balance).
Tuesday
Doctors Appointment and More Apartment Alterations. It was a long day at the hospital, 8am to 3pm, with a 2 hour window mid day when we had a chance to grab food. For the record, there was nothing but good news! Back at my apartment there were a couple more changes to be made. The door to my laundry room is also self closing so my Dad installed a flip down door stop. Problem solved, right? No! It's easy enough to kick the stop down with my crutch but much more difficult to flip it back up. In anticipation of this problem he drilled a hole in the door stop before we left on Monday. He looped a string through the hole and then tied the other end to the door knob. Now I can pull the door stop back up using the string. The last thing he put up was a towel hook in my bathroom. I have a towel rack only feet away on the wall opposite the sink but I can't reach it without using my crutches which isn't ideal with wet hands. Now I have a hand towel right beside the sink. My place was finally "Jen ready". I can't tell you how many times my Dad asked if I was sure there was nothing else I needed him to do before he left. You can't blame him, me moving isn't just a big step for me but for my parents as well. I'm sure they're worried.
The last couple day have been pretty busy, especially compared to my normal routine, but I'm finally on my own.
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