I'm Not a Farm boy, I'm a Cowboy

Time to wake up and get to work

It was early Monday morning, and the doctors had just finished their rounds, and the nurses were getting me out of bed. Mom somehow got in early and was standing inside the doorway. We said good morning while the nurses strapped my harness on and started hoisting me up out of bed to put me in my wheelchair. For the first time I realized that they lifted out of bed with the winch and I was hanging there three or four feet off the ground.  I looked over at mom and seen the concern in her eyes as she tried to put on a brave face.  I looked around as they were bringing me down and said out loud “Well, this is horse shit.” The lady nurse that I was unacquainted with looked at me said this is horse shit you don’t need this. They got me strapped to my wheelchair and took me to the restroom. After I was done in the restroom they put fresh sheets on the bed. She asked if I would like to get back on the bed since my first treatment wasn’t for another hour, I said I would. The other little nurse started to reach for the winch cable when the first lady said no he doesn’t need that we can do it. It took a little convincing, but she got her way. They unstrapped me from the chair got under each arm and she said “ok, on the count of three we all lift hard.” I nodded my head, on three I gave all I had and we stood up and resting on the corner of the bed as they helped me lay down the lady looked at the other little nurse and said” I told you he doesn’t need the winch. We are taking it down. The rest was a blur, she was running around getting people to help take it down and giving out orders, she even had my mom helping. My son Zach and Michelle, my physical therapist, enter the room at the same time, both looked surprised at the chaos that was going on.

Michelle questioned her for a second, but the lady didn’t have any of it, the hoist and winch was coming down. Michelle shrugged her shoulders and told me it was time to go workout, so we headed to the exercise room.   The parallel bar took front and center for this workout. She unstrapped me from my big wheelchair and put another harness on that had handles on the back and on top of the shoulders. She rolled me to the edge of the bars put my hand on the bars “this is what we are going to do, you are going to stand up and take four steps, don’t worry I’ve got you and you have the bars”. She made sure my oxygen was on and check my oxygen level it was hovering between 89 and 93. “That will have to do, let’s go” she said. With her and her assistant’s help I stood up and supported myself between the bars with my arms and shoulders, my once powerful legs just seemed to hang there. I started by swaying from side to side and pulling my legs behind me, then we switched to the opposite I would drag my legs in front on me and pull my body over my legs. I would look over at Zach cheering me, he inspired me, I couldn’t fail Infront of my son. My first four steps in were an ordeal. When I finished the steps, Michelle said the chair is right behind you, set down.  I sat down exhausted and had an extremely hard time breathing. My oxygen levels dropped to into the high 60’s, (I thought I might pass out) Michelle immediately stepped into help me control my breathing she turned my tank regulator up a little and had me continue breathing in through my nose and out my mouth, big breaths she said , soon my oxygen levels were up to 93, she turned me around and said ok, now walk back . We stood up and repeated the process. I think we did a total of four trips up and back. Each time I got a little bit better until it almost resembled a walk, but at the end of each completion I struggled for air and was just so weak.

When they brought me back to my room the winch set up was gone and so was the nurse, I never had the pleasure of seeing her again, but her motivation to get me to stand on my own and not rely on a machine was greatly appreciated.

Deb came in after school and Zach and my mom went home. I told her about the day and showed her I had a little more movement in my hands. She said, “good do you think you can sign your name?” I have some paperwork that needs your signature.” She raised the bed and handed me a pen. It was like I had never done that before the “C” took up the whole page and wasn’t recognizable. We laughed and I said, “I guess not.”  Then she pulled out a bag full of goodies, Knowing I used to love watercolor she pulled out a set of cheap grade school type watercolors and a watercolor coloring book “All you have to is wash water in the right places and it turns color.  I know it’s a bit young, but I thought it might be fun” she said.  It was a nice evening so they allowed Deb to take me outside under the awning where there was a picnic table with seats on three side so my wheelchair fit perfect and Deb could set beside me. She got out some water, and I tried to control my brush strokes It wasn’t pretty, but it was just what I needed. Unlike Speech therapy, It wasn’t trying to show  me how stupid I had become because I didn’t verbally know  2+5+3+5+7+3+8+2+8+4-9 equals and made me answer those kind of questions for an hour, I mean really try answering that when you only hear it , you can’t use a pencil and your figures don’t work, #*#@$%@#@#!! I hated speech therapy; it was the worse hour of the day. I’m sorry I digress, back to the watercolor, I could see my mistake and work to fix them something as easy as holding a brush and controlling where the water went, Brillant, it turned something on in me. I didn’t know it yet but that little time spent painting with my wife did wonders, not thinking about anything just making my hand move and enjoying my time. Those PHD’s and doctors should have been paying her. We continued that most of the evening.

Shortly before bed, two big orderlies came in to take me to the bathroom. I was wiped out so they had to do the heavy lifting to get me on the pot. When I was done, I pulled the chain on the wall to tell them I was done, but only one of them showed back up. He looks destressed and in a hurry. “We had an emergency so it’s just me” he said. When I was ready to get put back in the wheelchair, he bent over to lift me up and said “Come us two old farm boys can do it, can’t we? Instantly in my head I thought, I’m not a farm boy, I’m a Cowboy. I looked at him and said “Hell Ya”.  On the count of three. On three I exploded with everything I had, and we almost hit head as I rose to my feet. He looked surprised and spun me into the wheelchair and rolled me back to the bed. He said OK, one more time and we will get you back in bed. He grabbed me under the arms and said on the count of three, again I stood up quickly. He looked at me with a big smile and said, “that was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be, good job.”  I was still worn out but I felt good about myself. It was a crazy day. I kissed deb good night and fell asleep quickly.