Stepping Out

I am closing in on the end of my time in rehab.  Next week I should have my departure date which I am guessing will be around November 12th. Yesterday I was in the surgeon’s office where Doctor Quinnan studied my X-rays and pronounced my bones are regenerating and healing nicely. 

He said I can have fifty percent weight bearing on my left foot which means I can walk properly now with a walker supporting my left leg using my considerable upper body strength. No more hopping thank God. Now I learn how to manage increasing the strength in my legs which have been inert for months and then I learn how to handle myself, my wheelchair, and my walker in banal daily activities.  A great deal of handling going on here. 

I spent all day in the wheelchair and got back to my room grumpy ready for a nap. I was exhausted which in turn forced me to ask myself how will I cope with daily demands if this is all the stamina I have?  However the sensible voice in my head told me to take it one day at a time. Yesterday was also my birthday and I was flooded with cards and electronic messages. It was delightful and moving to turn 61. Many of you have appeared not in person but as personalities in my life through this crisis and it is one of the great good things near death has brought me. I try not to think too hard about how important this page is to so many of you because if I do I start down that route I will suffer analysis paralysis. 

I have to say I really like Publix bakery and they make a mean chocolate cake but I felt like carrot cake for some reason so my wife, and Publix, came through. Apparently the nurse’s station agreed it was delicious as they weighed in and polished it off. I am lucky to be served by a bunch of really nice people in this place. I am astounded by the joy and compassion displayed by the staff everyday. I feel cocooned by them.

I was hoping to drive Sosa crazy with a Rubik’s cube I was sent. I scrambled my brains on it  for a while and then offered it to him. He went mildly nuts wandering the halls fiddling with it between rooms and came back a couple of hours later defeated. Keep it I said, until you get it done. He flashed a glare at me and went outside to smoke and calm his nerves.

My wife brought me birthday greetings from her class. Apparently she “sure does miss me” so I wonder how much time the students can score deviating her mind from the class subject matter in hand to pondering my situation. We used that technique when I was a student: get the teacher off course wasting time on a favorite subject of hers to avoid giving the rest of us a test...glad to be of service students! 

The details of what I work on next in therapy, when I leave this place, how I cope in Key West and what work will feel like when I go back part time December 1st...all of that is uncertain. But I am not concerning myself with all the uncertainty at this point.  I am here, I am alive, and I am learning and all that feels great. As you all have shown me in this process, it will all come out in the end. Thanks for following along. 

A PS to Andrew from Seattle who sent a card recalling our chance meeting in the Dry Tortugas years ago. It was lovely to hear from you and yes I still recall that time fondly as does Layne. Thank you for the card. Much appreciated. 

Laughter

I was given a compendium of funny stories from the Reader’s Digest and if you are as old as I you will remember the words “Laughter-The Best Medecine.”  I have found lots to laugh at in rehab but lately I have found myself the old timer in the gyms. People who were here previously are gone and I see new faces and a new set of challenges to start conversations. Sitting at the table yesterday I saw one dude I knew and we fell to talking.  The guy on my right I didn’t know but he seemed affable enough. 

In rehab conversation follows predictable paths. Where are you from what are you in for, asked with circumspection or hinted at as not everyone wants to reveal all.  Yesterday the guy said he was in rehab following a kidney transplant. Whoa! Weird! Apparently a nerve to his leg got severed and he needs to learn to walk again. Not very funny so far, right?  So I asked does a transplant hurt? ( I like to know this stuff and rehab generally is a great opportunity to ask). No he said.  Not being able to piss hurt like a...and dialysis sucked. The transplant didn’t. They have all those drugs. Oh yes I said remembering my own surgeries. I love Dilaudid, fantastic stuff. Yeah he said until it blocks your gut. 

Now it is said, and I know this from experience that if you put two sailors in a bar sooner or later the conversation turns to toilets. In my new experience here I have found patients in rehab frequently weave the same course. The kidney transplant and I both got the dreaded Ileus (“ill-eh-ooss”) when the painkillers after surgery paralyze the bowel. We compared notes on our blocked bowels shaking our heads sadly.  My sister in law the doctor I said,  recommended prune juice. I tried it and at two in the morning the dam burst and I went into details which got all three of us laughing our heads off. Trust me, part of the relief from misery is knowing it is shared. Floating helpless in a bed of diarrhea is only part of the joke. 

That’s nothing the kidney transplant said. I got a rubber hose up my butt and a second guy in the corridor pumping a water barrel. Every time my nurse yelled “now!” I got hosed. By now all three of us were thumping the table with tears running down our faces. Did it work?  I gasped straining to catch my breath. Not entirely he said and I shall spare you the details. We frantically sucked air trying to compose ourselves. What a shitty day the transplant patient said shaking his head at the memory then he realized what he had said which set us all off again. 

You’ve had enough fun Elias said as he broke up the trio by pulling my chair back and wheeling me off to the rowing machine. Later I was sitting opposite a grumpy looking guy lifting his weights.  You’re the one from Key West he said. Yes I said wondering what rumor  the  mill had started. You’re all weird down there he said. Guilty as charged I replied but the great thing is if I’m weird I’m as nothing compared to the guy roller skating down the street behind me in a pink tutu and fairy wings. He looked about ready to choke. There’s always a bright side I said. And he stayed grumpy even though I never mentioned fecal matter once.  Some people are just like that.

Reaching Out

Try this experiment. Put a cup of something you like to drink on one side of a table. Walk to the other side and pull up a chair. Sit at the table and push the chair as close to the table as it will go. Now reach for the cup. 

Welcome to the world of rehab where broken people get put back together. As we wait to restore function we try to move among the places and objects familiar to all of us, rendered unfamiliar by some shortcoming. If you offer someone in a wheelchair an object for pity’s sake make sure it’s within reach.  The obligation on the person in the chair is to be patient. Especially when training the able bodied. 

For me to be able to define what it means to be in a wheelchair is a bit of a stretch as only two months out of my last sixty years have been viewed from this different perspective. Every indication is that within a few months I will be able to ditch the chair entirely and resume perambulation. Lucky me as not everyone gets to ditch the chair. I come to the chair with less experience than many but with the wide eyed gaze of one who actually lives the limitations. This photo below is from the bad old days, a month ago when my leg was held in a brace that I likened to a sheep carcass gripping my limb.  I would never allow myself to go out of my room in bare feet today. Live and learn.

People used to be described as being “confined to a wheelchair.” Such language is  now considered archaic and we lucky people simply “use” wheelchairs. Nevertheless it is confining. If I drop something on the floor my only hope of picking it up is by use of my grabbers. 

If I lean forward I risk going arse over tip and landing on my head. So it is that I have got pretty good at grabbing stuff with my claw extension. The other big issue that arises in this context is offering help. It took a while for me to establish that if I want help I’ll ask. I know I’m slow but it’s good for me to try and then to succeed. When I can’t reach I pull out my grabber and as soon as the stick appears the offers of help flood in. If I drop something I will need help, otherwise I’ll let you know. 

It’s a social minefield. To me in my room with my habits the process is obvious but for someone towering over me on their feet it’s anything but. When I get back to my room after physical therapy I like to sit in my chair before going back to bed. I tidy up rolling around with my grabber picking up and sorting stuff out.  I go through my mail which thanks to you all is abundant and much appreciated: 

I check the next day’s menu and I skip salads as I don’t much like them here to be honest - I’ve developed a taste for exotic dressings. The rest of the grub is okay for one such as me who grew up in institutions. 

When it’s time to lie down I have to make sure my bed is flat and low and three of the four side gates are up to prevent me accidentally falling out. Of all the things I dread  an unintended return to ICU is high on my list. So with my bed ready, the blanket is easily accessible by the head of the bed and my all important table nearby I line the chair up, put my plank across and slide into the bed. I wiggle like a maniac and get my shorts off, pull myself to the head of the bed and rest.  If I forget to take my shorts off the crisis arises when I need to pee and they are slow to get down when you are rolling from side to side. Then I use my grabber to push the wheelchair away and then I reach out from the prone position and pull the table in. Finally I cover myself with my blanket. All this to get into bed unassisted. In this picture below the bed needs to be flat. The blanket is in position. The plank is ready but my table needs to be near the bed head. The sheet needs to be laid out lengthwise as I can’t reach forward to pull it up from the foot of the bed. I’m telling you it’s a production. 

The table on rollers is critical. It contains my snacks, drinking water, napkins, books, and above all my urinals and hand soap on a separate area. If I forget the bottles I can’t pee and I’ll have to call for help. Sometimes they get left behind in the bathroom and it’s a race against time if the nurse’s aide will reach me before I have to let go. Wetting the bed this far along really aggravates me. If I forget anything in the sequence before I get in bed I’m screwed. Getting out of bed is impossible as the chair is now out of reach. If I leave the chair alongside I can’t reach the table. If I put the table next to the window the space is too narrow to swivel it. On and on. 

My wife to her credit is a fast learner and has been looking at my room through my eyes. Automatically she stands in front of me as I transfer from chair to bed to catch me in a fall. She knows where to put chair and table when I’m in bed and so forth. When she spends the night I am more relaxed as she will be right there if I forgot something. But that’s how you live everyday when you don’t have the full use of your legs. Every step considered and planned for. My friend Webb the sailor would understand because that’s how you cope single handing a sailboat. So now: when you hand me a cup of tea where do you put it? Within reach is the correct answer.

My Buddy

I would never have believed it but my wife insists it’s true. She says as soon as she pulled into the rehab hospital’s parking  lot Rusty started to whimper and wag his tail. He hadn’t been up in two weeks but on this his third visit he hadn’t forgotten where exactly I am incarcerated. 

My wife takes him for walks and he comes running back to me and reaches up over the bed rail to tell me all about it. 

He bothers no one, never tries to run out of the room and makes not a sound. Most of the staff love him. 

We move his bed around as he chooses. 

He loves grass and my great regret is we lack thick lawns in most areas of the Keys. Up here he takes advantage. 

Layne’s sister is in town for a visit. 

Fantasy Fest

Say what you want but Fantasy Fest is exemplified by the  final Saturday of the weeklong event. It’s a day of wandering Duval Street quite possibly in costume, hopefully tasteful, and if not tasteful then you can be forgiven.  I’m sorry I missed the festivities this year even though I generally participate only marginally as it as a very busy week at the police department, obviously. Anyway my pictures from the Grand Parade come from Chuck who enjoyed the event. Indeed I have heard from others that this year Fantasy Fest was more costume and less nudity which is nice to hear. Sheila says it was the best Fantasy Fest ever for her and she enjoyed her elaborate teal tutu costume on several outings. I observe from a distance as do you. Oh well this year I’m in rehab, what’s your excuse? Here’s to a new style,  cooler Fantasy Fest into the future. Next year they celebrate 40 years with the theme of In Tune But Off Key. 

If you are on Facebook you will see a lot of people who give themselves the mantle of world weary locals tired by the week’s holiday. Ignore them. They are trying to be cool but aren’t cool enough to stay private or take a weeks vacation and go out of town rather than see people having fun. It’s the same pursuit of coolness as those dreary individuals who are so eager to tell you how long by they’ve lived in Key West. About Fantady Fest make up your own mind. 

I’m not into costumes or dressing up but especially now that gratuitous nudity is being toned down a week long local holiday is rather fun. Too bad so many people act sonpissed off about it. People who are too local to ever set foot on Duval Street. 

Change At The Top

I met Donie Lee shortly after I started working dispatch at the police department. Maybe it was 2005 when I took my elderly Labrador Emma to the vet on Flagler Avenue. As I recall he was there with his boyfriend and a large brown Labrador-like dog. He was a sergeant of detectives and I couldn’t find anything not to like about a man who cared about a dog. Obviously.  

In December he retires after a life spent in Key West with the police. The thing about Donie Lee is that he is thoroughly decent. Of course as a boss he made decisions that annoyed people but somehow he navigated the politics infested waters of Key West taking care of police business but managed to keep the city commission happy. I admired his political skills from a distance as I’m a civilian, a dispatcher on the margins of what the public sees on the streets. I was much closer during Hurricane Irma which in my experience was a highlight of teamwork in the face of catastrophe.  Donie Lee led us through that fearsome time like the seasoned leader he was and it wasn’t easy for him. My admiration for him notched up even higher. 

Outside the chief’s office there is a corridor filled with pictures of chiefs past going back to the 1920s. The occupants of that office has a long legacy to live up to in a city founded in 1828. 

Chief Lee added one word to the department mission statement. He has always felt strongly about the department’s commitment to service to the community.  He’s a fifth generation Conch so for him the city has really been more than a job site. In his briefings to us the employees he always stressed service.  He also pushed for a hundred percent success rate in everything we did. But he noted that’s not possible so make sure you do darned good.  Yup. It was always a challenge to get that good for Chief Lee! I will miss him. 

Our new chief took me on a ride along when I got hired in July 2004. Captain Brandenburg takes over the department in December. He is in charge of the administration of the department at the moment which includes dispatch. I’m glad he got the job not least because I respect his work ethic and his expectations. Working for the captain has always encouraged me to do better. 

I think this is going to be an easy transition for our department from one well grounded leader to another.  I can’t wait to get back.