The moment it hits....

Mom talked me into going to OT, despite my not wanting to go.

"It'll distract you," she said.

Yea, I thought to myself. Everything you guys told me, and you expect OT to distract me? I thought again. Highly doubt it, but okay.

So I went, my mind on anything but OT. Cant remember what the OT had me doing, but I mindlessly tried to do it. My mom was there with me, just watching what mood I was showing.

Within minutes, in tears, I told the OT I couldnt do anymore. He looked at me clueless, until my mom explained what I'd found out. He went to hug me, but I scooted away with my wheelchair. I didnt want hugs, from anyone, not even my mom. I didnt feel worthy of anything. He offered for us to go outside, as I remember, "to take a walk." I remember thinking, how the fuck can I walk when I'm in a damn wheelchair! But, whatever...we all went outside.

I remember him asking if I wanted to talk about it. I bluntly said "no." Even with a nicotine patch on, I told mom that I needed a cigarette. There wasnt a word that OT could say that could calm my heart. I was obsolutely angered with myself.

After awhile, mom and I went back to my room, and I got myself into bed, and zipped up my net bed. I can never explain how furious I was at myself. My mom tried to talk to me, and I attempted to calmly tell her I didnt want to talk. Notice ATTEMPTED. Fortunately, my mom understood my anger at myself. Quietly, she unzipped the net bed, and gave me simple hugs, and a kiss on the forehead.

"I'll call you later," she said as she rezipped the bed. "I love you Elicia. It'll be okay."

"Yea," I said, not convinced of anything. "Love you too." I rolled over to not face her, and went off into my own depressing thoughts of what I'd done to hurt myself this horribly.

Later, when the nurse came in to fill my feeding tube, she asked how I was.

"Your mom stopped by the nurses' station, and told us that you know why you're here." she compassionately said. "If there's anything we can do, we can call the doctor, and get an order for an anxiety pill if you want."

"I don't want anything, but thank you." I said. Again, I rolled over when she was finished.

"Do you want your TV on?" she asked.

"No thanks."

"Well, you holler if you need anything, ok hun?"

"Yep."

For maybe a week, I felt as if a zombie. My mom came to visit me everyday, going with me through all of my therapies, getting food at the hospital cafeteria. She made a habit of not eating around me, because the smell of food made me miss it more.

Slowly, mom or I would tell my therapists what I had learned. Laurie Ann, my speech therapist, was very understanding. She herself has a walking disability, but is still able to work because her mind is so sharp. She encouraged me to get better, so that I could go home. She suggested that I get into counseling as soon as I could.

My physical therapist, I forget her name, thought that by pushing me a little harder, that it'd be a positive step into going home. Between her and Laurie Ann, I slowly found the determination to fight to get on my feet, literally. I went from the wheelchair, slowly to a walker at PT. My therapy consisted of walking with the walker, and doing leg exercises. We tried out different types of walking equipment to see what worked best. The walker prevailed.

A week or so later, Pastor Tom and my mom came to visit. Before Pastor Tom entered the room, I asked mom to have him wait. I unzipped the net bed and slowly got out of bed. Slowly, I found my balance, and asked him to come into the room. And very slowly, I waddled over to him. It was the first time since before the accident that he'd seen me walk. And how the tears came rolling down his face!! I nearly fell into him, but I'd done it! My mom cried, Pastor Tom cried, and I stood there proud as ever!!!

My speech therapist decided that I should start simple eating trials one day. I'd take a small bite of lemon ice, and she'd time me to see how long it took to swallow it. The first day was a struggle. But, I quickly got better at it. I was determined with every therapy, I was going to get better. I wanted to go home. I wanted to continue the therapy from the outpatient aspect of it.

I finally got to take my first eating test. Laurie Ann stayed next to me, starting off with soft, simple foods, and working her way up as I could tolerate. We did this by means of the XRay department. I could actually see my throat as I swallowed. It was neat to me because I didnt remember the first time the test was done. With the simple instructions of Laurie Ann, I learned how to swallow without choking. And, I PASSED!!!!