I spent most of my time in a special air-bed the seven and a half months that I was in the hospital, so I wouldn't get bed sores. For them to get me out of bed they had to turn off the air, which deflated the bed. This hurt, making me hate getting out of bed. It also sounded like, someone passing gas. When this happened I'd quickly think of something to get my mind off the pain. "Did I do that?" was my getting out of bed motto. I practiced saying this, until I could do it, so anyone in the room could understand it. This received a barrel of laughter. My reward!
The times they got me out of bed were for therapy; speech, occupational, physical, hydrotherapy and counseling with a psychiatrist. They tried to time these so they were consecutive, to cause less stress on me.
I didn't like counseling one bit. There was nothing funny about having to deal with the reality of my situation. My psychiatrist was not my favorite person because of this task. Looking back, she was only doing her job, but I didn't care. I was going through to much emotional pain to care how she felt.
One time when I was in physical therapy, the therapist had asked my doctor to come and encourage me. As he entered, I was in the parallel bars. The therapist told me the doctor was there and to show him how good and long I could stand. I struggled to stand, then stood as long as I could, at the time it was 4 minutes and 30 seconds. The doctor was very encouraging saying, "Good job Merrym! Your doing a great job! Next time I come will you stand longer for me?" My answer was, "Sure, 4 minutes and 31 seconds." He left laughing and shaking his head, which he did often around me.
Sorrow may remain for night, but joy comes in the morning.
Psalms 30:5
I am blessed
Merrym Dawn Mathis Bruce
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