Walking into Jackson South hospital pushing my walker in front of me took me back to that mid September day I first left my room after almost two weeks in intensive care. My therapist Sean stuffed me in a wheelchair and set me free:
Yesterday afternoon I returned for the first time and saw Sean down the corridor. I waved. He was the one who got me out of bed and scared the bejeezus out of me.
He waved back. He knew everything. “I’ve been following you on Instagram,” he said. And he has. He asked after Rusty’s paw and made sure he was home safe with friends for the night while we are in Miami.
I was fighting back tears for the picture. You were right I told him. I can walk. I didn’t believe it at the time as I lay in bed only able to use my right arm.
Before Sean the doctors and nurses had their way with me. One nurse pushed up my shorts to look at my thigh. The most natural thing in the world in a hospital. She wanted toook at the scar where they drilled into my leg to put a pin to put my badly broken femur in traction.
“Do you remember when I put the weight on and the said the pain went away?” Oh yes I remembered the agony stopping suddenly. I also remembered the drill cutting into my skin. We laughed. The atmosphere in critical care is so relaxed. Anything goes. I felt at home. I remembered Keila and sheremembered me. We tested up right there outside the elevators. ICU staff don’t often see the success stories. “This one lived!” She called out. He walks! I replied stumping along.
And Adam fixing my leg inits cursed brace:
It was really good to see them and they made me throw the walker away for the picture. I was hanging into Adam’s back.
It was a long day, even for a passenger through the Keys trying not to drive my wife nuts back seat driving. She knew her way round having spent far too many days driving back and forth during my recovery.
I was surprised to see the hospital appear above the suburbs. My wife pointed it out to me and I was fascinated to see it from the outside. I arrived by helicopter and left at night by ambulance on a stretcher.
It was pretty luxurious but of respect for my lack of stamina my wife insisted we do room service. Argentine sausage, Peruvian steak and a bottle of white. No Percocet for me! I struggled on through!
And a lovely view from the Doubletree.
And legendary cookies for dessert. The real reward will be 100% weight bearing on both legs from the surgeon’s x-rays today. Fingers crossed.