The Bumpy Road To Rehab

August 1, 2013… I was being discharged from the hospital.  It was post-operative day three, following bilateral total knee replacements for me. 

I remember being so nervous and so excited at the same time- almost as nervous and excited as the day I took my first-born home from the hospital. Although I was in much more discomfort on this discharge day, and I was rolling out on my back, not in a wheelchair with a chubby new baby in my arms, but on a gurney, all alone, waving good-bye to my husband, being loaded into an ambulance… not going home… but to a rehabilitation facility.

The goal was strength and stability.  This was my full-time charge from this point forward.  All four of our kids were enrolled in full-time day camp, my husband had stockpiled vacation time and taken as much as he could in this coming month.  Our plan was to have me “up and running” by September.  One month.  Seems feasible.  We could do this.  Our “Team” was on the job.

The ride from hospital to rehab center was just over 30 miles.  (What? You may ask… Wasn’t there anything closer?) Yes, absolutely there were closer facilities to our local medical center and our home, but I had done my homework.

In the weeks leading up to the surgery, I thoroughly researched the rehab centers that offered the care I was going to require after surgery.  I visited each one, taking a tour, meeting with the Director of Nursing whenever possible.  I asked a ton of questions. How many times a day did they offer physical therapy?  Occupational therapy? How often did the medical doctor visit? Nurse to patient ratio?  I smelled the air, I checked the bathrooms, I peeked into the cafeteria kitchens.  I made sure there were ample outdoor spaces to roam, I made eye contact with the staff nurses and aides- smiled at them- did they smile back? Lots of little things on my check list and plenty of big things… The employees who toured me around the facilities always assumed I was doing this for a family member- and were always shocked to find out I was going to be the patient.  “But you’re so young!” Well honey, illness does not discriminate. (Somehow I managed not to say that out loud- I would just smile).

My decision for a facility fell on that one that was far, but fit the bill.  It was the ideal spot for me to convalesce.  I attended physical therapy sessions twice daily, occupational therapy once daily.  I need to get to all three meals under my own steam- that meant walking- to the cafeteria, all the way down a loooong hallway.  It was exhausting.  My husband visited daily, bringing me a cup of coffee from my favorite coffee shop. He would bring the kids up every few days- we worked on a 1000 piece puzzle in one of the family lounges together over those weeks.  Every now and then we still laugh about that silly puzzle!  Family and friends filtered in to visit, my room quickly collected so many flowers and balloons I could barely see across to the television!

The grueling, difficult days melted one into another.  I went from stretcher, to wheelchair, to walker…. Everyday I was getting stronger.  My physical therapist was the perfect combination of compassion and sass.  She pushed me just enough… until I fell one day. We had been working on stairs.  I was so afraid of the stairs!  Every single time I had to climb I tensed.  I was so afraid to fall.  And then it happened.  The pain was searing hot.  So sharp I could not cry. It just took my breath way.  That tumble abruptly ended that day’s session.  The next day, guess what we did first? (After she stretched me….) Yep, stairs.  Not even one day’s rest! No damage had been done- I had been thoroughly checked out, they even did an x-ray to confirm all was well.  (It’s actually pretty difficult to damage those titanium babies!) What was hurt the most was my pride.  And that fear- that fear that crept back up- but she wouldn’t let me give into it.  Up I went.  That time I cried.  But I did it.

Choosing the right rehabilitation facility was the first step in an long line of steps in healing correctly for me.  It put me on a path to success. Those early days of physical therapy immediately got me into a mindset that I have somehow managed to continue through these years.  I work hard every chance I get for my knees, for my body, for me, for those I love and love me back.  I want to keep myself and my prosthetics in the best condition I can.

My Top Five Tips for Choosing A Rehab Center for yourself or a loved one:

1. Care Delivered – will the needs of your issue be met? How often is therapy? X-Rays in house? Nurse to patient ratio?  Doctor’s visits? Medication? Transportation provided? etc..
2. Creature Comforts- cleanliness, privacy, food/meals, visitor policies, etc.
3. Finances- health insurance coverage can be a bear! Most centers have staff dedicated to just this, talk at length with them to make sure you understand your coverage!
4. Location- the patient stays, but the family will need to travel to the location to visit- keep that in mind when you choose, especially if choosing for an elderly family member who may require someone at their bedside more often.
5. Staff- First impressions are priceless! I mentioned above that I would catch the eye of staff members as I passed them.  I took note on if they smiled back when I smiled.  You, or your loved one, will not be at your/their best while in a center like this.  You need staff that are compassionate and caring, that will go above and beyond- the type that smile back when smiled at- it might seem silly- but it was big to me.  🙂

Addendum 6/9/2020…….

A few years ago, I was asked by an interviewer…. “Laurie, what gets you out of bed in the morning?” 

My instant reply, “My knees.” 

I wasn’t trying to be smart or coy. I was serious. I went on to explain, “When my feet hit the floor each morning, be it a grey day, or a bright and sunny day… what resonates with me is that first touch… I feel no pain. My knees lift me from my bed, to my feet- with no pain. It’s then I am reminded the day is up to me.”

I continued, “After years of taking each and every step in pain, counting the times in a day I would climb the stairs- because there were only so many I could do… being able to rise, and go about all of now my very active daily routine, to keep up with my kids (and sometimes have them struggle to keep up with me!) is unfathomable to me. That first moment each day, it actually takes a second to register- that I’m ‘ok now.'”

I encourage you to find the best space, either at home or in a facility to rehabilitate in. Take ownership of your recovery. It is yours and yours alone. Listen to your body. Build your support group and use them. Trust your gut. You’ve got this! You ARE stronger than you think! -LT

Be Well!

-Laurie