Good news, if it really happens. I'm supposed to get a Geri-chair Monday afternoon. They have, evidently, decided to purchase one. It's not a final solution, but it will enable me to get out of bed, as well as getting me to the Physical Therapy department for therapy.
The head of the Physical Therapy department actually came to my room to tell me about the chair. While she was here I asked her why I haven't been getting any therapy so far. She gave me the old song and dance about how "range of motion" therapy isn't important enough for a therapist to do it and the aides will have to do it. I've been told this for months and it has never happened.
So I pointed out (yet again) that (1) the aides won't ever find time to do it, (2) there is a large turnover of aides so they'll be spending a lot of time training people because (3) I won't let untrained people to give me therapy since, unless they know what they're doing, they could break my leg, hip, lower back vertebrae, etc.
She said that most places hire a certain person who is trained and is in charge of doing all the minor therapy like what I'm needing on my legs. But we don't have one here. She said she would bring it up in tomorrow morning's meeting. I wish her luck.
I see my mental health therapist tomorrow. He probably won't like hearing how rough this week has been, especially since it started by my bursting into tears the minute he left after last week's session. I have definitely fallen, emotionally, but not as far as I used to. I'm afraid to get my hopes up about the chair. I don't know how well I would handle disappointment while I'm in this mood. So I'll just take it as it comes. Doing that is actually a good survival skill, so yay me.
I knew I'd have bad days or weeks at times. The struggle since last week is only temporary and shouldn't be as hard to work my way out of. I have a head start because of the hard work I've been doing learning about letting go and being positive. Right now I'm feeling more cynical than positive, though. It's been a refuge from pain for me for most of my life, which is a long time for this old lady, so it's easy to fall back into its protective arms. Problem is, it keeps away good feelings, too, so I'm not going to stay cynical for long. I want to get back to looking forward to seeing what's around the next bend in the road I'm on.
I think I'm trying to convince myself of this more than anything else.
It's never to soon to make an effort, so I'm listening to soothing music. I had a bath and shampoo and that feels good. Then I applied some sandalwood and rose lotion for stress-relief aromatherapy. So I smell good. Maybe I'll never walk, or worse, dance again (I used to love to dance), but there are other things I can do.
One night, when I was feeling rowdy but couldn't do anything about it, I had an inspired idea. I found a Youtube video of people dancing to infectious music, put the back of my bed as high as I could stand it so that I was sitting up. Then I put my earbuds in, cranked up the volume and DANCED! From the waist up, anyway. I waved my arms in the air and swished my hair back and forth (it was long then) and put everything I had into it. Oh, god that felt good! I've thought a lot about doing it again. I've been so tired from lack of sleep that I haven't had the energy. But there's nothing stopping me from dancing during the daytime. So what if I look stupid? Better that than pitiful, right? So what if people outside see me through the window and laugh? I'd just be glad that I could make them happy.
I'm way too sleepy to dance tonight, but not too tired to line up some Youtube videos to dance to.
I'm too stubborn and willful to stay numb for long. I'll be working on making things better, for both my inside and my outside. Want to come dance with me? Everybody's welcome. Bring a mirror ball and we'll turn down the lights. :-)
Love, joy and delight to you all.
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