Written September 29, 2010  7:34 pm

Anita started her rehab program with becoming familiar with operation of her motorized wheelchair.  She then had sessions with PT, OT, and Speech Pathology.  Anita was in good spirits and pleased to get started in earnest with her rehabilitation.

I remember feeling so much hope.  Finally starting rehab! It wasn't hard to leave the Shepherd ICU.  I hadn't been there long enough to get close to the staff.  The Neuroscience Unit became my new home.  We were like the Island of the Misfit Toys (a reference to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer movie).  Most of us weren't classic spinal cord or head injury patients.  There were a few, but for the most part our diagnoses were things like West Nile Virus, Craniotomies, surgeries gone wrong or just plain bad luck.  And some of us suffered maladies yet to be named.  But I made it.  Out of ICU at last.

My expansive new room could house 4 patients, however I only had one roommate.  I hadn't had a "roomie" since college. The first thing I noticed was the case of coke she had under her bed and the open one on her bedside table.  This looked promising.

She was on a ventilator too, but was more mobile than me.  She had a regular wheelchair and was able to get in and out of bed with minimal assistance.  I was still transferred by hoyer lift.  I was well used to this "carnival ride", but this was hoyer lift Shepherd style.  There were tracks in the ceiling and a box-like mechanism that was able to slide on the tracks.  This box housed the cables that were lowered and then hooked onto the mesh fabric sling that was placed under me.  With a push of the button the sling folded, supported and lifted me.  I could be suspended over my bed or moved via the tracks to my wheelchair.  I felt like Peter Pan.  There was a sense of freedom in "flying" around the room.

When I wasn't flying, I could lie back and view the beautiful artwork on the ceiling tiles.  If the tube to my television was placed near my chin, I could maneuver it to my mouth (through head movements and bizarre facial expressions) and control the TV by sip and puff.  In my new home, the nursing routine was the same.  Feeding tubes, catheters, turning every two hours, bed bath, and trach cleaning.  I continued to battle the ventilator monster, but I was fighting him on my turf now.  My new home.  Free of constant monitoring.  Now...for just a little while.