I think I mentioned before, I used to run the mile race. It’s 4 laps around a track.
Imagine running a sprint and just hold back a bit. That’s how fast it is. It’s a tough race.
You feel like hell on the back stretch of lap 3, but there would always be someone like
your coach to cheer you on. That’s how I feel right now. You see, they, my therapists,
decided I have plateaued. I will no longer receive physical therapy and occupational
therapy from my main hospital. This is their decision. It’s like getting to the back stretch
of lap 3 in the mile and no one being there to help you. I guess my profound thought of
the day would be: A mistake not corrected is a mistake learned.
At the moment, I’m really angry because I can stay at home and practice what they taught
me, but I may make mistakes. If you make a mistake in your training, and you do it over
and over again for months it could hurt you, set you back. I need to go to therapy. Not
only to guide me, but also for them to educate me. It seems crazy to me. It doesn’t make
sense, but then again, look at my situation. What makes sense?
It’s ironic that we talk about therapy like this because it was a year ago this week that
I came home. I look back at that time, I was a mess. I’ve gotten better. I guess next
year I be even better. But I need therapy. I have traumatic brain injury. It’s very slow
long drawn out healing process. I wonder if the insurance for therapy takes this into
consideration. Anyway, my friend whose typing this, and I agree, one door closes,
another opens. I’ll just find another place to do therapy. But it doesn’t make sense
because my old place knows me. I said, whose decision is it? I could understand if I
really had plateau’d, but I feel I’m getting better. I really believe it. It’s just so damn
slow. And they said it’s up to the therapist. I don’t get it. They do set goals, but they
said I’ve reached all their goals. No one’s asked me. I have some goals. I’d like to walk
again. I’d like to feed myself again. I’d like to take pictures and all that is starting to
happen. With the therapists help I walk with other people help I feed myself. With other
people’s help I take photos, but I know I can do it by myself. OK. I’ll put away my soap
box now, step down and be quiet. I’m just pissed off. But you know what, sometimes
when you get pissed off, it puts fire under your ass. You get angry and you work harder.
I’m going to end on a positive note. It’s almost Christmas. There’s such a good vibe
going around. I went to my father’s church the other day and my friend was singing with
the choir. The same person that’s typing this for me. She sounded beautiful. It was a
nice and welcome break from the monotony of my world. Merry Christmas everyone.
I’ll talk to you in a few weeks. Love, B. Nice