Yesterday, I found out that I will be staying at Hararville until 11/9/10 when my ortho appointment is. Prior to obtaining this information, I was very worried that I would be discharged. After finding out I would stay, my anxiety peaked to uncomfortable levels. Why is it that the outcome that yesterday seemed to bring the most comfort now brings such unrest? I feel like a caged tiger...except that I do all of my pacing in my brain while laying in bed with my foot elevated. I think that physical pacing would be less exhausting at this point.
I was just handed my schedule for tomorrow, and I have no scheduled activities. This pretty much means that I will be spending the day writing, watching movies and drawing...I may take a nap. I do have visitors coming tomorrow, which gives me some hope. Otherwise, I am trying to strap myself in for an thrilling day of absolute boredom. This lack of activity used to feel amazing. Now...I'm about ready to take my wheelchair and roll myself home. I won't...because that's actually a really terrible idea.
So where is the peace in the middle of this unrest? I think it might be in the hour of PT I have in which I'm actually able to move my body. It's remembering the independence I've gained: strength, stability and the ability to safely transfer from the wheelchair to the bed/chair/toilet without assistance. It's remembering the phrase my mom always used to say to me at night, "Emilie...it will all look better in the morning." My mom was always right about this. I don't know how it works, but somehow...it always looks better in the morning.
I have peace that I will be able to go back to work. I have some anxiety that I'm not there and that I have been gone for two weeks, but I'm sure the transition back won't be nearly as complicated as I think it will be. It never is. So for tonight, I will breathe and remember that things will be better in the morning...because I know they will be.
No comments:
Post a Comment