Yesterday, April 2nd, 2022, marked the 2 year anniversary of being put on a ventilator due to COVID-19. I was not expected to live through the whole experience. For the 8 days that followed, Barbara received a phone call from my doctors telling her NOT to expect me to come home. On the 7th day, I began breathing on my own. On the 8th day, I woke up.
During my total time in the hospital, (15 days, April 1 -
15), I lost 40 lbs. of mostly muscle (not much fat on my bones). I could not
walk due to my weakness. Sitting up straight was even a chore. I have never
felt so helpless in my life.
I was sent home, even though hospital policy was to keep
until I could get to the bathroom on my own, or with minimal help. The problem
was that physical therapy could not get into the hospital to see me because of
the lack of PPE. The feeling was that I could receive PT at home more easily
than in the hospital, so I was taken home by medical transport.
My home health nurse and physical therapist were the most
caring people I have come in contact with. I should add that the entire
hospital staff were pretty darn awesome too! (Especially the nurses who snuck
popsicles to me from their own stash!)
As I began PT, I was told it would be a minimum of 4 months
until I would graduate from PT. I had to re-learn how to walk, and my fine
motor skill were pretty much gone. I had 40 lbs to regain, but it needed to be
muscle.
While my physical therapist was great, I really didn’t like
him much during our sessions. He pushed me to exhaustion. He gave me exercises
that seemed impossible at the time. It was the same thing every time, work up
to doing 30 reps of whatever torturous exercises he assigned each day. During
each session, he’d give me an exercise that I would struggle to complete 10
reps. Then he’d say, “Work your way up to doing 30 reps per day by the time I
come back in 3 or 4 days.” This man is a MONSTER! But, he encouraged me to
understand that it was possible.
I tend to be a little bit of an over-achiever, so, I would
begin my exercises by doing 10 reps (or the most I could do until I had no
strength left) 5 or 6 times a day. On day 2, I wouldn’t stop until I did 30
reps in a single session. But I tried doing 3 or 4 session each day. To
compound the struggle, my lungs were still not completely clear. This exercises
caused me to cough (a lot). I would get weak from the coughing, let alone the
exercises. But I kept pushing through. I graduated from the wheelchair after a
few days and later the walker after about 15 days.
After a few weeks, it was time to try to climb the stairs.
Something so simple, and yet, 13 steps looked like hundreds. I climbed 3 or for
steps and had to sit down to catch my breath. I held onto the rail as if my
life depended on it. But I made it to the top of the stairs that first day. But
here was the problem, I had to come back down! THAT was even harder than going
up! My new assignment was “do all my other exercises AND climb the stairs a
couple times each day.” This guy was WAY worse than I had imagined! No one has
ever been so cruel to me. But he continued to encourage me that I was capable.
Again a week or so later, he’s got a new challenge. Now that
I can climb the stairs and come back down (and finally got a shower seated in a
tub), I should try to walk up my driveway. For those of you who don’t know, my
driveway is a steep hill up to the cul-de-sac. Not too long, but very steep. Of
course I can do that! And so I did. His hand under my arm (just in case), I
made it to the top. He quickly says, “Let’s take a lap around the cul-de-sac.”
My reply, “Oh that’s not gonna happen.” I felt like I had nothing left. But
after a few minutes I regained some strength and we started the first (and
only) lap. I stopped 2 or 3 times to catch my breath and cough. But we made it
back to the driveway. Then my taskmaster says, “Now we have to go down the
driveway.” Are you kidding me?!?! But when you think about it, what choice was
there? On the way down, my knees buckled a couple times, but he caught me each
time and helped me get my body straightened out before we would continue. I
finally got back to my couch to sit down. He took my vitals and hung around a
little longer than usual, just to be sure I recovered from the session. My
oxygen levels were good, but my heart was a little fast.
At the end of week 6, my PT guy showed up and said, “Today,
if you can do all your exercises AND climb the driveway on my own, I will
graduate from PT, and he would stop visiting.” As I ran through all my
exercises, I felt like a Jedi master. Nothing slowed me down. But as I finished
the final exercise (climbing the stairs and coming back down) I was losing
steam fast. I still had the steep climb up the driveway. I had some terrible
thoughts, “I don’t think I can do it!” I was exhausted from the workout so far
and I STILL had the most difficult task ahead of me! But we pushed on.
I think the driveway gained another 50 feet in distance as I
looked up the hill. But I continued on my way. And before I knew it, I reached
the top! In my brain I’m screaming “I GRADUATED!!!” But, Mr PT says, “Let’s do
a lap.” I love this guy, but I hate this guy!” So, without missing a beat, we
take a lap. It wasn’t fast, but I didn’t stop. When we got back to the
driveway, I was proud of myself, but I still had to get down the hill, and my legs
were shaky. I asked him to be ready, in case I had any difficulty, but I got
down on my own. We went back inside and did some paperwork releasing me from
PT.
We talked a long time about what I could expect. How to
regain my fine motor skills, precautions to take until I was fully physically
able to do everything normally, and other things like that. He added that he
has never had a patient beat the timeline by such a wide margin. Like I said,
“I tend to be a bit of an over-achiever.”
Since that time, I began doing more and more laps around the
cul-de-sac. I was determined that when I could complete 15 laps without
stopping, I would walk to the next cul-de-sac and back. It seemed 15 laps was
about the same distance. Well, I was wrong. It was MUCH further to that cul-de-sac,
but that wasn’t the biggest issue. The real issue is that the road is on a
slope. I added a hill to my walk without thinking that all the way through. I
took my phone so I could call Barbara to come and get me if I ran into trouble.
But I completed my walk with some short stops along the way. Every day, I
walked, trying to improve. I walked the same route until I could do it without
any stops. Then I took a different road to increase my distance (and see some
other sites). By the end of summer, I was walking a mile or 2 each day.
I have often wondered how people my age end up using walkers
and canes. In my mind, I think I blamed THEM for not staying healthy. But I
learned that LIFE is what causes those conditions. Of course, YOU can be the
cause, but life can be hard and unpredictable. No one WANTS to lose their
capabilities, but sometimes we just do. I say, “We fight to get it back, or at
least gain back what we can!”
I have become very aware of how precious life is. I never
considered how much some people struggle to live on a daily basis, until I was
faced with that struggle. I was given a second chance at life, and I live each
day in gratitude for that chance. I struggled not just physically, but
philosophically on the meaning of life, “Why am I here?”, “What is my purpose?”
Through that struggle, I have found new meaning to my life. I appreciate
everything more. I no longer fear death. I think I understand who God wants me
to be, and I plan to become that person. I have found my mission in life.
People want to feel sorry for me for all I’ve been through.
I tell them “2020 was my best year ever!” Sure it was hard, nearly impossible,
but I grew into the next chapter of my life, a life with REAL meaning. While I
would never wish such a difficult challenge on anyone, I do hope they find the
REAL meaning for their lives too.
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