Pray Attention

Written October 10, 2010 8:40 pm

Anita had a quiet day today.  Sunday is a day of rest at Shepherd Center, i.e. no therapy.  She was off the vent at 6:00 am this morning.  She continued to rest until 9:00 am, whereupon, she ate breakfast, dressed, and got up.  Anita participated in a Skype video with family members and took some phone calls from friends.  She then ate lunch, followed by attendance to a non- denominational church service. She remained up in her wheelchair for the afternoon, read the latest Caringbridge entries (Thank you for your many wishes and prayers), watched some TV and ate dinner.  She retired to bed and remained off the vent again until 10:00pm.

Church.  John and I decide to make the journey to the 4th floor and attend the service.  I am able to drive myself there as long as someone else pushes the elevator buttons.  It's "freeing" to get away from the Neuroscience Unit, which I affectionately call, The Island of Misfit Toys.  It takes me awhile to back into the elevator.  My neck stiffness makes it difficult for me to maneuver in small spaces.  Shepherd has an awesome "fix it" staff that repair corners and elevator walls scraped up by unskilled drivers.  I figure I am good job security for these engineers.

The service is conducted by volunteers from several churches around the Atlanta area.  There is a piano, music, and a message just like real church.  Some Sundays there is even a choir. The worship is attended by many.  A few wear helmets and stare blankly into space. Several patients are in power chairs, like me, and some are able to push themselves in manual chairs.

I find it hard to focus on the sermon.  The music is nice, but I am distracted by the "congregation".  The ventilators keep time with the music. I look around at the sea of patients and visitors.  Most are younger than me. I can't help but think of all the stories contained in this room.  I wonder what has happened to all these folks. I want to know what they were like before their accident or illness.  What do they miss the most?  How are their families?  Their pets? What have they lost? What have they found? And, what are their hopes?  Chances for recovery?

The music stops.  The silence brings me back. The message of the sermon today is hope. I glance around again and see some smiles. We are all here.  There is hope.  If I had a magic wand, I would wave it and heal us all.  But I don't.  So I'll just pray.  Now...for just a little while.

The Shepherd Center

Written October 9 2010  8:54 pm

Anita was again taken off the vent at 6:00 am this morning.  She dressed and ate breakfast.  She had an Occupational Therapy (OT) session in the morning, focused on trunk control.  She then had lunch, and then had the afternoon "off".  She remained up in her wheelchair for the afternoon, took another 'trip' around the Shepherd Center, read the latest Caringbridge guestbook entries, took some phone calls from family and friends, watched some TV and ate dinner.  She retired to bed and remained off the vent until 10:00 pm, another 16 hours off the vent.  She will repeat the 16 hours off the vent on Sunday, and as previously noted next steps regarding ventilator weaning will be evaluated on Monday.  Sunday is a day of rest at the Shepherd Center, i.e. no therapy tomorrow.

The Shepherd Center is amazing.  Both from the perspective of a patient and from that of a former Occupational Therapist.  There is a full size recreational gym here for wheelchair sports (which are incredible to watch).  There is an Olympic size swimming pool, where the occasional scuba diver is spotted.  Family areas abound.  Some have pool tables.  Others have areas to play games with kids, get free coffee and snacks, or just watch TV (lots of football to be viewed here in Atlanta).  And all of it is completely wheelchair accessible.  There are lifts to lower patients into the pool.  All the tables adjust up and down to accommodate wheelchairs. Hallways and doorways are wide and forgiving "freeways" for wheelchair users.

The artwork that lines the hallways and foyers is not the standard "bolted to the wall" nature scenes from hotel rooms.  The art here is museum quality with different themes on every corridor.  There are sculptures, paintings, photographs, and collages of animals, birds, flowers, and abstracts.  It is absolutely beautiful.

There is a gift shop too, full of treasures I view through the glass window.  I won't drive myself inside for fear of breaking something.  I'm not that good at maneuvering my "semi" in tight spaces.  But I am able to operate my power wheelchair independently and cruise the "hotspots".  I find hope around every corner.  The family members I see look tired but determined.  The staff and volunteers are always kind and enthusiastic.  The patients are supportive of each other and we share victories and setbacks with genuine excitement and concern.

Hope and humor abound here.  Even though I am 9 hours away from family, friends, and Trudy, I am grateful for this opportunity to be helped and cared for here at the Shepherd Center.  Now...for just a little while.