Today I'll continue my journey.
So I was in Intensive Care. They soon talked about moving me to one of the rehab floors. I didn't feel ready for that. But they insisted. So I was moved to another floor. My first room had a mechanical lift I didn't feel comfortable or safe in. They wanted me to sit in a wheelchair but I was in no shape to do so. My legs were still pins and needles, I barely ate, and my head was lolling all over the place. I was ready to go back to bed after 20 minutes. I was in the chair for two hours.
After a few days I was moved to a different room with a better mechanical lift. It was here I met one of the nicest people. She was the custodian for my room. We would talk, sometimes about how I was doing, sometimes about what I did before I was in the hospital. There were some nurses that were amazing on that floor as well.
Physio was tough. my red blood cell count was low, which caused me to feel light headed when I sat up. Almost every time I sat in the wheelchair they had for me I was either feeling like I was going to pass out, or I was in pain because I ended up having a pressure ulcer on my backside.
My body was getting less stiff and sore as time went on, but I needed to re-learn how to walk. I needed to be able to stand.. The physio guys were awesome. There were more than a few days I was cursing their names.. They stuck with me. I needed to be lifted out of the bed and into the chair. Just before they moved me down to a different rehab floor, I was just starting to be able to stand up with the help of another harness.
While I was on this floor, I had the ulcer looked at on my backside. They ended up having to clear it out. It was a rather large area. And deep... I joked I had the Grand Canyon on my ass. In order to help it heal, I was packed with iodine soaked gauze twice a day. I will say it hurt.
I'll end it here and continue next post.
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