Stops and starts

Rehab update after 206 days in hospital

When I first started keeping track of the number of days I’d been in the hospital, I did it as a bit of a joke for my amusement. I’d never been in the hospital for more than ten days at the most.

At 40 days, I was in awe.

At 100 days, I felt pride in surviving this marathon.

At 200 days… well, honestly, I’m kind of over it.

I knew that it would be a long recovery from the beginning since they couldn’t cast or rod the fracture in my leg, but I had no idea it was going to be this long.

The good news is that the x-rays show the fracture is mostly healed now, which is certainly reflected in my pain level. I can bend my knee and move my left leg around fairly freely. After almost seven months in a hospital bed, I have so little strength in all parts of my body, not just my leg.

In my last rehab update in August, I mentioned that I was going to the physio gym regularly to work on getting back that muscle tone. Most of my exercises were focused on strengthening individual muscles in my arms, legs and torso. I’ve also been trying to sit up in bed as much as I’m able at meals and on the computer, but I’ve found this challenging since sitting with my legs straight out is not normal or comfortable for me.

All of my rehab work has had but one goal in mind—getting me back in my power wheelchair.

While this sounds straightforward, it has been everything but.

Sorry folks, this photo is from last year.

First, my nearly $30,000 wheelchair that I got last October has a lot of bells and whistles; however, when it was purchased by Alberta Aids to Daily Living (AADL), I was able to medically justify getting the tilt and elevate functions on the seat, but not recline. This means that I could tilt in space to rest my back, but my hips were always at a 90-degree angle. The big thing with my recovery is that I am still fighting to sit up that much without it causing pain in the fracture site and general fatigue.

Thankfully, the occupational therapist at the hospital petitioned AADL, and they agreed to an $8,000 upgrade to my existing wheelchair to add the recline function. We started this process back in July, and between funding approvals and ordering the parts, I got my recline-upgraded chair last week.

Now, the challenge was to get me into it.

Up, up and away.

Because of my brittle bones, I can’t simply be manhandled into the wheelchair without risking another fracture. In general, the safest way for me to transfer has always been under my own steam, but given my general state of weakness of all my muscles right now, that isn’t possible.

At the start of September, we began working on transferring me off the bed using an overhead hoist lift. Even this was tricky because we had to make sure that my weight was spread out evenly away from my healing fracture by having the straps on the sling arranged in a very specific way.

I’d never been in one of these lifts before, and I can’t say I’m a fan. The all-over body pressure and the fact that I have to completely surrender all my control produce a great deal of anxiety. I try to combat this by using the self-hypnosis techniques Stefan has taught me these past few months, and I’ll mumble “Alice Lake, Alice Lake, Alice Lake” as I try to visualize my place of calm.

Since my wheelchair wasn’t ready yet, we initially transferred me to a manual wheelchair provided by the hospital and fitted with my backrest.

This had mixed results.

On the one hand, I was very happy to be in any kind of wheelchair for even a brief period.

On the other hand… oof, so many issues.

My tailbone protested painfully about the seating. The leg rests, which were way too long for me, had adjustment bolts at just the wrong locations so that they jabbed into my kneecaps. The worst was the lightheadedness and vertigo that sitting in the manual chair initially triggered. For weeks after our first test, the room would spin violently even when I was doing my normal side rolls in bed, and all the issues brought my regular physio to a standstill.

This convoluted journey brings us to last week when they were finally—FINALLY—able to use the hoist to put me in my wheelchair.

And, oh my word… it was a pure Goldilocks moment.

Ahhhh, just right.

I’d been saying for months that I would do so much better if we could get me back in my wheelchair, and I was right. My tailbone stopped protesting. My leg didn’t hurt as much because I could put my feet on the footrests.

Best of all, I was in complete control again. I can control the recline and tilt functions on my chair myself through the joystick so that I can adjust the angles as much as I want when my muscles start getting sore or fatigued.

I can also motor places on my own, which is a dream after being stuck in a hospital bed for so long. On Friday, they let me drive about the hospital by myself, so I checked out all the artwork in the hallway around the physio gym. The hospital art is all donated, and they have a strangely large collection of duck prints by Canadian author and illustrator, Michael Bedard.

In any case, I’ve now been moved to a new hospital room with a hoist lift and the plan is to train the staff to transfer me into my wheelchair daily.

One more step towards me flying the coup at last!

“Sitting Duck”, Michael Bedard (1977)

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