“…Walking in rhythm
Moving in sound
Humming to the music
Trying to move on
I’m walking in rhythm
Singing my song
Thinking ’bout my baby
Trying to get home
It’s been so long since I’ve seen her
I’m tired and so all alone
I’ve travelled so very far
I’ve got to get back home…” —The Blackbyrds (1974)
Well I’ve been gone since I finally got home alone to deal with the walker, pain, and absolutely no help whatsoever! The first couple days were filled with lots of pain and tears and a couple falls. My independent nature just couldn’t be quelled after that horrific prison experience at that horrid hospital. I was quite emotional vacillating between wanting my dear friend to fly up and help me and my desperate need to experience the stillness and privacy of my home. It looked like an absolute mess and it added to my stress and stubborn decision to be alone. In hindsight I can see how it might have been better for me to have accepted the help, but I it was just too much to get over having everyone constantly looking at your ass, and entire body as if discretion or self respect didn’t matter enough to have anyone really helping me. By the end of the first couple of weeks, after having to crawl on the floor from a fall to get myself up with the huge boot that took heroic effort to get on and off, and constantly swollen limbs, another fall that bruised my wrist from falling into the wrought iron wine rack (yes and the wine didn’t all fall out and break—MIRACLE!!) help came…
Now the help was something I thought would be for cleaning, cooking, laundry and maneuver the landscape of my now foreign home, but NOOOOOOOOO! I ended up with occupational therapy and Physical therapy both factions that seemed even more useless that in rehab. If that wasn’t enough They called early mornings when I was trying to sleep due to bathroom complications which kept me up all night. They never gave you a schedule as to when they would come they’d instead call early am and ask to arrive a few hours later. That started my initial negative feelings. Trying to get them to come on specific days regardless of the time was all out! I felt like the Hosprison antics were being replicated in my last bastion of escape, here at home and it devastated me. No matter how much I explained how it disrupted my sensibilities and added to my already stressed out issues, they continued to do it. All they did was give me exercises written out and then left. They’d make sure I could do the exercise, so the sessions were usually less than 15 minutes of actual movement. Most of the time they charted what they told me to do, they talked, and I listened wondering how long I’d have to put up with it. Then the home care agency sent a couple workers deathly afraid of dogs, which I thought, was cruel by that agency, and super inefficient for helping me in any way. They finally rectified it with an awesome Home care assistant (HCA) who loved dogs and literally remembered how do things to help me based on my expressed needs not her own…she’s awesome! The third I was supposed to get help was so disastrous with changing people, that I said forget the third day I’ll work things out myself. Do I need help, yes, my endurance is shot and needs to be built back up. On top of that I still have to get my work done on “The Big ‘D,’” which is problematic with my near-non-existent trust in the school and their supposed willingness to help me.
Aaargh!!! I have been working on myself though and meditating to strengthen my recall of who I truly am…someone who does not have to take all the inconsistent and disrespectful manner I’ve been handled. My dad’s mom said once to me that nobody’s going to “handle” her—she said she didn’t need handling and I agree with her especially now with the creepy treatment I got at that place and continue to get with that organization. I won’t slander them, but clearly they’ve lost or never had the ability to work succinctly with people who refuse to live as dependent lumps of flesh! Matter of fact today I was able to walk to the bathroom without “THE DREADED WALKER!!!” I still have balancing issues and my foot swelled up, but that may have been based on the food I had yesterday. Mostly my HCA does a great job of cutting up the organic local veggies I get and popping them into the crock-pot for me to enjoy lots of soups. She follows my instructions perfectly, which produces great results! She was definitely a Godsend and light in the midst of the mess I continue to encounter as I continue to fight for my independence.
I love being near my dogs and all their antics. My appetite is basically gone, although I try to get a meal in here and there for the medications I was sent home with, but truthfully being tired all the time makes eating less a concern of mine, which makes soup so perfect. I’ve lost 21 lbs. since coming home and that’s without strenuous exercise. Truly there are many more huge changes flooding into my life and I can feel my attitude about a lot of things becoming more truculent towards suggestions and attitudes that do not resonate with my current protective nature towards myself. I’ve never felt so determined to look out for me in such a manner before that Hosprison stay. I may lose a lot of “benefits,” but I have this belief in myself now that fuels my survival thoughts, words, and deeds. I AM I and no one gets to put their filthy confused and messed up miffs on me ever again! I didn’t got through that two month dark journey to allow it happen ever again. I may not be perfect in shape, job, family or anything else, but I sure am perfectly me and I’m a work of priceless art that only comes once in a lifetime. Maybe a few blessed individuals will get to experience all this brilliance that I am…good luck world.