A Farewell to Arms

Thursday, April 15

7:30 pm

I slept a solid six hours last night, from about 11 to 5. When I woke up, my neck hurt a little bit. Worse, my muscles all seemed to be asleep. My legs were exceptionally heavy; puling my heels up to my butt in the bed was a difficult task, and my arms felt like lead. So I did some exercises in the bed, just to wake things up. They started feeling better, and I felt a little relieved. But a muscle in my neck was still hurting and I couldn’t find the call bell for the nurse. Another way to call the nurse is with the TV remote, which looks like a normal TV remote but is much heavier and attached to a thick cord. I was able to reach for it on my bedside table and drag the remote over to one of my armrest pillows. But the cord was stuck under my arm pillow and twisted, so the remote wouldn’t stay face-up and I was having trouble turning it or pulling it out any further.

It was dark in my room, so I couldn’t even find the right button at first. I had to turn on the TV to get a little light to find where the call button was. Plus, the buttons on this thing are hard to press, and I don’t have a normal person’s strength to squeeze. I had to find a thumb or finger strong enough to press down as hard as I could on the button. The only thing I managed to depress was me. But, with great effort, I eventually managed to turn on the TV. That little bit of light helped me find the right button to call the nurse, and—again with great effort—I managed to press it. It was almost six o’clock by the time the nurse and tech came in to examine me and give me medicine.

OT started at 7:30 with Butch, as Lori is off for a few days. I told him I really wanted a shower, and even though it wasn’t what he had planned, he agreed. He handed me a sponge and the shower head, and I managed to get myself wet and wash about three-quarters of my hair. There was a section of my head I couldn’t reach because I’m not able to lift my right arm high enough yet. I also washed my left leg, my right thigh, and my right arm and armpit. Thankfully Butch came in and finished washing me.

After my shower, I was able to put deodorant on one armpit. I use a paste deodorant that requires a very small amount for each application. When I asked for Butch to do my other armpit, he put enough paste in his hand for at least six applications. He rubbed it all in there before I could stop him, so as far as I know my armpit is still chalk-white with paste. But at least I smell good!

My deodorant and I wafted back into the bedroom to dress myself. While sitting in my wheelchair, I managed to get a pair of shorts over my ankles and then pull it up around my thighs. Butch helped me stand up so that I could get the shorts the rest of the way up, at which point realized we had forgotten to put my underwear on first. Thankfully the shorts had built-in underwear—so I went commando. Anyway, after I stood up and decided underwear was not worth the extra effort at that point, I wasn’t able to pull the shorts the rest of the way up, so Butch helped me finish the task. Then I helped him put my shirt on me. I could say he helped me, but that wouldn’t be quite true.

After cutting up my tough French toast and tougher sausage and helping me put on my adaptive silverware, Butch left. I managed to eat all of that, and stewed apples, by myself.

If you look at the schedule I posted yesterday, you will see that there is a gap between 9 and 10. Maybe time for a nap? Not so fast. I had “wheelchair orientation.” I really like the new chair they gave me yesterday; it’s easy to move, and I can go fairly fast in the hallways by using my hands and arms. But my wheelchair expert, Blythe, made me use my legs to propel the chair because it’s good exercise for my hamstrings. I managed to walk my wheelchair to the elevator, and we went down to the lobby and outside. It was the first time I’d been outside in 16 days—the longest I’ve ever spent inside, by about 14 days. In fact, it matches the 16 days I spent exclusively outside when I rafted the Grand Canyon a few years ago.

I wheeled my chair along the patio, and then Blythe had me take it down the sidewalk, which had a slight decline and then a slight incline. I quickly realized that it’s damn difficult to propel these chairs up any incline. My empathy for people in wheelchairs shot up immediately. It was probably about a 2% grade, and I was working hard to get it up that grade. I was successful, though, and—like many times when I go biking—I enjoyed the downhill part.

I crossed the street and continued on the sidewalk for about 15 minutes before returning to the building. Blythe took pity on me at one point and helped me up the final incline. Maybe she was in a rush.

By the time I returned to my room, my arms and shoulders had gotten a real workout. But no rest for the weary! Brian met me for PT as soon as I got back. After PT, I rested in a recliner chair in my room for a few minutes before PT tech Odette came and took me to the gym. She hooked me up to the hand bike, with the usual electrical stimulation on my arms. I spent 20 minutes on the hand bike. Between that and the wheelchair exercise, my arms and shoulders were depleted.

I was happy to have lunch and a break until one o’clock, when Brian came and got me again. I walked. I walked a lot. He kept me past my PT appointment and through the time allotted for my recreational therapy, which didn’t happen at all today.

After PT, I went to “arm and hand recovery.” The therapist, Eliza, had me do plank rises on my knees and elbows and then push-ups on my knees, which were hard.

She then put a foam roller on a wedge (perched like a small ramp). She instructed me to put my hands on the roller while keeping my arms and pelvis straight, and roll the cylinder a few inches up the wedge and back down. I did six or eight of those before my muscles wouldn’t hold me up anymore. I fell on my face.

Arm and hand recovery went long, like my PT, and I never got around to the “education” on my schedule. Apparently the class today was about reinserting oneself in the community. My therapists decided that the class wasn’t very important for me and that what they were doing was extremely important, so they hijacked the time. They were probably right, but at that particular moment my arms and hands were telling me that nothing could possibly be more important than sitting (and resting) in that class.

I got back at 3:30 and managed to get my nap in! Until Linda arrived at four. The time with her went by too quickly, as always. Some of time was consumed by a gentleman who told us about a research project they were interested in having us participate in. Linda and I both quickly agreed, but he went on for another 25 minutes presenting all the legal language and warnings. The research project focuses on caretakers of spinal cord injury patients and will mostly involve periodically answering questions.

My schedule for tomorrow has more gaps in it than today’s, though I’m sure those gaps will be filled by morning. Probably for the best, as after tomorrow the weekend will provide plenty of time for rest.

(Christine is truly sorry about the title of this post.)