rehab

a few days shy of one month ago, i fell and broke my right hip. i remember swearing profusely at the firemen/emts as they struggled to load me into the ambulance and couldn't offer pain meds because, though they continued to jab my arms, they couldn't start an iv....my veins refused to cooperate. so i swore like a sailor. i yelled louder than i did while in labor with neal or megan. this broken hip hurt....hurt like hell.

i arrived in the ER around 11 am and i think i was admitted to the hospital late that afternoon. i was having heart issues so they moved me to the cardiac ward. they planned to fix my hip tuesday (it was monday) but the OR was booked until thursday. i was operated on thursday morning. my surgeon was brilliant. those aides who later tried to roll me onto my new hip while adjusting the bed pan? not so much.

a week later, i went by ambulance (with lots of medication, thank you very much) to rehab. i spent almost 3 weeks there. i came home last night. rehab was really neat. i'm serious. i'm thinking the broken hip was a god smack for agonizing this summer about my brain disease. 'you want something to cry about? here's a busted hip!' so, at rehab i shut my mouth whenever something negative prepared to escape from my lips. i decided to enjoy my therapies....occupational, physical, speech and recreational.  recreational involved crafts so it was my favorite, hands down. but every therapist, every nurse, every aide i encountered....they were wonderful. except for nurse kenisha, who went 'nurse ratchett' on me when i declined the golfball-sized potassium pill. hey. the potassium was making me sick to my stomach. so i said 'no.' and kenisha refused to be my nurse. so i got a new, more tolerant nurse and kenisha got a patient who didn't refuse her meds.

i believe that every experience has a lesson included.....sometimes obvious, sometimes to be worked like a rubic's cube.  the staff taught me about kindness. about patience. my fellow rehab patients taught me about life. elderly mr. ramirez, who remained silent and stoic except when he reached for my hand at the end of thursday's mass, and squeezed it warmly. he reminded me of my father. 'go in peace,' father mata was saying but i felt that squeeze all the way to my heart.  i felt the strongest sense of peace.

miss rose was 82, with a broken hip and the beginnings of dementia. one night, we managed to sneak her a small container of orange sherbert. she never ate much but she attacked the sherbert with a vengeance. 'when i was pregnant with each of my six kids, my husband would take me for a cone of orange sherbert. i was married to him for over 50 years. he died 2 years ago. i miss him.' she sighed. and then she smiled. 'that sherbert was yummy. thank you." she said softly. she went home (her daughter's) with her new hip the following morning.

cheryl had 2 hip replacement surgeries (the 1st didn't take), she was my age, and taught english at the local university. her daughter, sarah, was expecting cheryl's 1st grandchild. her daughter, megan, reminded me of my own megan. i laughed the hardest with cheryl. i loved her humour. cheryl also was recently diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. she goes home to her 90 year old mother's on saturday. she has given up her house, her car and her career. but she still laughs, and still looks for the humour in every situation.