The 1st year

It's been a while since I wrote in here so here it goes...

I've been meaning to write another blog, but when I did (which was in March) it just sounded like I was bitchin' and giving up... which is totally the opposite some days. I have more low days than high it seems, but I'm toughing thru it.

The first year's been pretty hard. I've had to deal with a lot of things. Like being homesick, being confined to a wheelchair, and dealing with a break up that got interrupted when I broke my neck, among other issues.

Time's a bitch and it seems like it's just taking its sweet ol' time, hehe. In a year I've gone from not wanting to do therapy to wanting to do it every chance that can get (and that insurance will pay for). I'm getting to the point where I can transfer from my chair to the bed with limited help and spotting. Which is a big deal! I went to being a weakling to Wonder Woman and Stretch Armstrong's love child. If I only had those kick ass wrist cuffs and an invisible plane... hehe :) I'm in the process of starting Drivers Ed. I can't believe I have to learn how to drive again... oivey! I'm also getting my very own manual wheelchair with power assist wheels! YEAH!! It's going to shiny and brand new... So I'm getting there, progress is slow but happening.

And then there's school. Yeah, I went back, but not to LSU... :'( I'm going to UTA which is the equivalent to UNO but not as cool. I'm pursuing a degree in either Public Relations or Journalism. I'm not sure which one yet. I am sure of one thing, I want to write for a music mag. Anything music... it's been my savoir for the past 17 1/2 months and I don't know what I do without it. So I'm more than sure that that's what I want to do.
But I'm going to school on campus full-time which is a huge jump for me. I'm very self conscious and I'm have this fear that everyone is staring me down and judging me... thinking I have a mental handicap instead of just a physical handicap. And it doesn't help that I'm in my power wheelchair. I look like Darth Vader if he was a quadriplegic. Then on top of that my mom is helping me out on campus until I'm comfortable enough to ask people for help. So needless to say I feel like a freak. But I guess it's something I just have to get used to...

But all my progress and hard work is so I can reach my goal of going back to LSU and New Orleans and finish what I started, building my life around and in the city that I grew up in. I'm going try my damnedest to not graduate from UTA and graduate from LSU and get my Master's there too.

After that, establish my career/reputation and go to Austin and enroll in Project Walk. Which is a program that is quad boot camp almost. Actually it's a program that uses physical therapy to get quads and paras to walk again. They've had a lot of success... they have had patients who were 20 years post injury walk again.

And doing that would go back to telling those doctors "Won't walk again? Guess you were wrong about that one, weren't ya?"

But in the end it's all about picking up the pieces and rebuilding with whatever you have to work with. I'm not done yet...
Even when my days are the blackest (and alcohol won't fix it, hehe)... I still manage to pull through. I don't know how, maybe its perseverance or sheer stubbornness, I just do.

The wheelchair that won't give up

March 24th, 2007 @ about 11pm, Baton Rouge, LA: While drinking with friends poolside, I decide I'm going to jump into a 4ft. deep pool. But I don't just jump, I dive. As I'm floating to the surface I realize I can't move. I broke my neck, not only did I break my neck, my spinal cord is swelling up, which is the reason I can't move. FUCK!

April 9th @ 9:35am, Our Lady of the Lake Hospital, BR, LA: I'm on a respirator, tube down my throat, being prepared to be flown to Dallas, TX. I'm going to a rehab hospital, Baylor Institute for Rehabilitation. By now I've been told that I shattered my C5 vertebra, and the swelling has caused my spinal cord to stop working below my C6 spinal nerve. And I've been told I won't walk again. Awesome.
At about 1p I arrive at BIR, and I meet my nurses and doctor for the next two months. I'm told I'm a C5-C6 incomplete quadriplegic. And I'm thinking what does that mean?

June 9th @ 12pm: After two months of almost nothing, very little therapy and rehab, I'm discharged from BIR. I have functional use of my shoulders, neck, biceps, very little wrists and chest. I don't know how I'm going to function, and how I'm to cope. No one has told me if I'll regain use of my hands, or be able to walk again. What a bunch of bull. My doctor has skirted around the question, my therapists have no answers and my hospital appointed shrink has told me, in psycho babble, there's always a chance. WHAT?! And I'm supposed to be going home and automatically know how to adapt? Right. All I know is I have to stretch, watch my pee and the catheter, drink lots of water, watch what I eat, keep a regular pooping schedule, make sure my skin doesn't break down and form a pressure sore, and watch out for the signs of Autonomic Dysreflexia... ok. See ya BIR. Hello Real Life Rehab.

Today: I've learned a lot more with my personal PT and OT (from BIR) than I did while I was there. And I'm a work in progress. My possibilities are endless and I'm blowing my PT's expectations away. But she's the reason I'm doing so well. I can push a manual wheelchair, do most of the work required to do a transfer, and I'm a propping queen. She told me that when we started working with each other, she didn't think we'd be able to do much at all. There's a lot of progress and there will be more, but that's because I'm determined, and I'm not as depressed as I used to be. And I have a therapist who is concerned about me being able to more than expected.

There's more to this... there's always more, you just got to be willing to do what it takes to get more.