As I lay in bed, I look out the window and see the water; it looks peaceful and calm. As I write, I hear an airplane fly past me. It’s 7:21 a.m. on September 30, 2021. Today, I’m being discharged from rehab and going home. I smile as I write this. It’s been a long road.
I’m excited to go home, and I’m nervous. I know I will succeed. I will bounce back. However, it’s nerve wracking adjusting to my body. Talking to one of my physical therapists, I told her that it felt like I was encountering a second spinal cord injury. She agreed with me, saying that’s exactly what had happened.
There is much less sensation in my legs than there was prior to surgery. They are also hard as a rock; this is known as tone. To me, my legs feel like heavy bricks. However, I can’t feel them. To me, that’s not a terrible thing. Prior to surgery, I could feel the horrific pain of my legs being locked up in contractures. It felt like my muscles were ripping and tearing. I’d rather not feel the pain than feel what I did before.
I’m thankful for the care I’ve received. Each treatment provider took so much time with me, and truly cared. They saw the good, bad, and ugly. They were there to celebrate milestones with me, and cried with me during the harder times. I wouldn’t have been able to get this far in my recovery without each person.
I’m beyond grateful that I ended up at this rehab; I finally got the right care I needed. I will miss each person. They went above and beyond for me. I’m thankful they have been a part of my journey.
I still have a long road ahead of me, and I know it will be quite the journey. I’m ready for the next steps, and I can’t wait to see what’s in store for me.
To the Big Man Upstairs,
Thank you for listening to my prayers and protecting me. I will continue to work hard. Please continue to watch over me and guide me to the right path. I will always keep my promise to my grandmother: to create every day. I never stopped writing, even during the days I was screaming and crying from pain. I’ve kept my word. I’m looking forward being able to do art as I build my strength. No matter what, I will never stop creating.
My soul speaks up.
“This is day one. You’re okay. Be proud of yourself and give yourself grace. Welcome home. You’re one step closer to the light at the end of the tunnel.