My therapy sessions became as sporadic as my chances of getting a hot meal. When I first started, it was a very pleasant and well organized woman that showed up. Then, after the first couple of times, it was random therapists with different styles and methods. They would show up when I least expected them. Most of the time, I would have been waiting for them and already decided they weren’t going to show up. It’s at that point that I would allow myself to drift off and then….. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
“Hello, I am here for your therapy session today!” the person at the door explained. With my eyes barely open, I sat up and prepared myself for a workout. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked.
“Nope” I said as I tried to shake off that groggy, sleepy feeling. “What are we gonna do today?” I asked.
She paused for a minute as though she was surveying the room. “Hmmm… how are your legs feeling today?” she asked.
I started moving my legs around to check and see. “My legs feel okay other than that little numbness kind of feeling that I had for some time now” I told her. The numbness didn’t hurt at all but it was quite uncomfortable. The doctor had told me that it was coming from having too much zinc in my bloodstream. I also read that it could be a side effect of one of the drugs that I was taking.
“Alright, I want you to try and stand up by using the walker as your support. When you get on your feet, I want you to see how far you can walk without relying on the walker. I will be beside you if you need support” she informed me.
I rose to my feet and she pulled the walker from in front of me. I slowly started walking towards the other end of the room. She was walking close by just in case. It felt good to start getting some of my independence back. The bacteria really attacked me and made me extremely week. During all of the previous therapy sessions, I could feel myself getting stronger and stronger. I knew that I wouldn’t be stable until I gained some weight back and strengthen my muscles.
“This feels good” I said. I walked more confidently and for longer periods than before. The progression was definitely a great sign. I began to have less doubt about whether I would be able to regain my abilities. The new question that I asked myself was when.
By the time that we were through, I had a really good therapy session. I was so relieved because now I wouldn’t be a total burden on my mom when I am eventually released. I have actually come a long way since being admitted. I was on oxygen but no more. I had two IV’s pumping me full of fluids but now there’s only one. I could barely move my legs and now I’m walking with little assistance. I also used to take about 30 pills everyday and now it’s down to about 15. I am supposed to see the doctor tomorrow and find out what’s standing in the way of my release now…
