When the list of what you can't do is longer that the list of what you can...

With all the breaks and new metal accessories I had, learning how to walk was expected. What wasn't expected was that I would have to work so hard to do just about everything. It took weeks to be able to push myself up out of the wheelchair. Getting dressed was daunting task, especially when we found out my right wrist had been fractured in the accident (I guess it wasn't that important compared to my other injuries at Scott and White). I can still remember how I felt when I reached each milestone...getting out of the wheelchair without help, putting in my socks, putting on my pants, standing without help, hopping one carpet square further, putting weight on my left leg and taking actual steps. Each thing was so simple yet I felt like I had won Olympic gold. Every week the doctors and therapists had meetings to discuss you progress and the person assigned to reporting to the insurance company came and read the findings to me. It sounded more like something a mother would write in a baby book...Peggy stood up my herself for the first time today. Ugh, I hated those reports! When I hit week 3 of therapy my doctors decided I was doing so well that I might get to go home in 5 weeks instead of 6. I had never really concentrated on my date to go home because it had been vague and I didn't want to be disappointed. Now I had a real date!! That was the good news, the bad news was that I was going to have to move because my apartment wasn't accessible for me. One hurdle always seems to lead to another.