Being transferred Renown Inpatient Rehabilitation was at first a curse but quickly turned to a blessing. I definitely needed rehabilitation; I could barely walk and talk at the time. However, I don’t think they were ready for me. Their population is made up of primarily older people who need rehab for broken hips or various operations. While the nurses and doctors there have dealt with younger patients, I don’t think they’ve ever had a 27 year old athlete who was determined to be an athlete once again.
At the rehab hospital, I could tell the nurses didn’t know how to approach me. Most of the time I was babied, and though that would work for some, I needed tougher love. I knew I could recover and get better, and I felt like some there were holding me back. Part of the time, I had a roommate who required round the clock attention. They had a shower schedule of every other day, which was ridiculous, and the food was terrible (really bad; my family brought me food from outside when I couldn’t eat the hospital food).
Most of the aides let me get away with breaking the rules because they knew I was still acting responsibly, and one really pushed for me to be in a private room. So I owe them huge thanks. But it was because of those cons that I wanted to get out and go home as soon as possible.
But I needed rehab, really badly. The therapists there were really good at gauging what I could and couldn’t do. They were a huge pro of the rehab hospital. I was prescribed Occupational Therapy (OT), which helps with independence, Physical Therapy (PT), which helps with overall strength and balance, and Speech Therapy (ST) 3 hours a day, 5 days a week. Also, while I was in the rehab hospital, I was weaned off of Decadron and Percocet, and instead placed on aspirin to thin my blood.
Anyway, while I was there, a transformation occurred. I went from victim to survivor. With the help of my therapists, I went from not being able to walk on my own and barely being able to talk to walking with a walker and having mostly intelligible conversations. It was there and because of my therapists that I knew even though I had a long road ahead of me, I could never give up. I just had to keep going. Just keep swimming.
I worked on overall strength, coordination and speech. In the rehab hospital, I learned how to function again. My mental capacity was intact, but I had to relearn everything. Walking was at the top of my list. My physical therapist was amazing, and knew exactly what I needed. Physical therapy was challenging and tiring enough without being impossible. It laid the foundation for my recovery.
Occupational therapy helped my motor skills so I can do things that most people take for granted, including me before I got sick. Things like throwing, showering, counting change, writing and driving were all challenging. OT helped me be independent.
After my stroke I was barely intelligible. Like I said, mentally I was intact, so everything sounded perfect inside my head, but speech therapy helped me express what I wanted to. I had to relearn words and sounds. These are things you typically learn when you are very little, and you forget the learning process, so not many realize how hard this really is. Can I tell you how frustrating it is to be completely fine mentally, but not be able to express yourself? I can hear the sound in my mind, but getting it out is another story. Speech therapy in the inpatient Rehab Hospital helped me at least be able to get the words out; ongoing outpatient therapy will help me sound like I used to.
The attending physician and the Nurse Practitioner were awesome. They recognized that I wanted to get better as soon as possible, but had a long way to go. They recognized what I couldn’t: that I needed lots of rehab if I wanted to get back to my normal life. So they kept me in until I was independent enough to go home.
I also received a ton of support and had a huge following. Brian had created a facebook page that many of my friends joined and followed, and while I was hospitalized. I was visited by a ton of people. I saw friends from college, RRF, and work. I received packages and presents from people I didn’t even expect to receive help from. I got texts and phone calls from everyone who wanted to be there but couldn’t. The outpouring of support was incredible and overwhelming. Thank you all so much.
My closest friends visited me here. If I described each visit, I’d be going on forever. There was Tod, Michelle, Lydia, Brad, Gabe, Andrew, Dennis, Larcker, and so many people from RRF, just to name a few. I can’t describe how valuable and how much I cherished that time; just know that I love those people so much and it’s because of everyone who was there in body and spirit that I am still here. I love you and I cannot thank you enough, from the bottom of my heart.
I spent the holidays in the hospital. I was in rehab for both Christmas and New Years. My family busted me out whenever they could on passes, so I did get to go home and shower. I also went out to eat. Those of you who live here know that Reno is not known for restaurants, so the food wasn’t stellar, but let me tell you compared to the hospital food, it was amazing. I got to see the city, and I spent time in my car. I love driving. I haven’t been driving long; having grown up in NYC I never needed a car, but you need one out here and I love it. During my four hour windows of time that I was out of the hospital, I decided I needed to drive again. I love driving. Did I already say that? I don’t know what else to say. I love road trips and don’t mind sitting behind the wheel. I drive without problem now, so if road trips are your thing too, let me know.
I got out of rehab on January 5th. There was some confusion over my insurance, but everyone felt I was ready to take on the world. I felt ready to take on the world, and that was most important. I was put on Coumadin, a blood thinner, until April and was told to follow up with multiple doctors after my discharge.
I could talk, and though I sound a lot different now (other people will tell you I sound a lot better), people can generally understand me. I could walk, faster with the assistance of a walker, but I could shuffle along on my own when I wanted to. I could shower with assistance and dress myself. I did not yet trust myself around stuff that could potentially hurt me or others, like hot food, sharp objects and cars. But I could go home, and at that time, that’s all I wanted.
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