As I was waking up this morning….I did not want to get up. The dogs were needing to go out to potty and my hubby would soon need breakfast. So I laid there trying to get the energy to sit up on the edge of the bed…..so reluctantly I did. I always have to sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes so I can attempt to take on my painful and tingling numbness in my feet. I could hear my hubby open the front door as the two little ones (Lettie and Tucker) bolted out the doorway to do their morning business and I could hear him slowly coaxing “our old man” a.k.a Wilson to get on out the door. Then I heard him turn on the news and start messing with the fireplace. His next step would be to walk into the kitchen and turn on the keurig for me……I know this because he does this for me every morning. He is such a sweetheart….even though he would say it is no big deal. So I smiled and hauled my rear out of bed and down the steps to start working on breakfast for him and get his lunch packed. I really didn’t have much desire or energy to do much more than just curl up on the couch with the dogs and a cup of coffee as I soaked up the warmness of the roaring fire. But as I went to my kitchen window I saw a beautiful sunrise over the field in our backyard. For me that sunrise was a message from God to be thankful for it’s beauty, to be thankful for this day and to tackle as much as I could today. As I was making a sandwich for my hubby….to take with him on the semi…I was reminded of how a few short years ago I couldn’t do this simple task very good at all. Then I got to thinking of the day I arrived in a rehab facility in St. Louis….the best neurological rehab in the world as far as I am concerned. I had just had the biggest flare from my MS that I have ever had. This lesion was across my brain stem….so everything….EVERYTHING was affected. I had to learn to walk again with no walker, fine and gross motor skills were GROSS…..and speech wasn’t at it’s best. I had been to therapy before but it was always out-patient….several times. But this time was different. My deficits were numerous and I wasn’t going home this time. I put on a brave face as I prepared to go from the hospital to rehab….but I was low and I felt like I was never going to get out of this hole I was in. My husband had to leave on a long job and I wouldn’t see him for quite awhile. My kids were going home with my parents (saints) and I wouldn’t be there. I wouldn’t be there to do their laundry, help with their homework, cook their meals, comb my daughter’s hair, wake them up for school, have meals with them and watch them still sleeping first thing in the morning before their feet hit the floor…..all the mom things. I wasn’t going to be there for them if they are hurt or upset. I would only get to see them on weekends when my wonderful parents packed them into their car and made the four hour trip up to St. Louis to visit. If I haven’t mentioned this before….my parents are saints. However, I know that I have…but it bears repeating…..my parents are saints. So as I was being transported over to the facility I started to panic. The kind of panic that leaves you feeling empty. Everything was settled into my room and everyone left……sadness set in. I remember trying to talk to my husband on the phone, but he was having trouble with his vehicle and had to be in Chicago as soon as possible. Or that is what I thought was why we didn’t talk long that evening. I later found out it was because he couldn’t understand me with my speech problems and was trying to not cry when he was on the phone with me. The next morning came after a restless night of tossing and turning. My breakfast arrived and I had to eat, take a shower, get dressed and get to the therapy room. Sounded easy enough….then I remembered….I CAN’T DO ANY OF THAT WITHOUT ASSISTANCE. I no longer had a catheter or IV as I was out of the hospital….but walking was a challenge and I had to call for a nurse to assist me with everything. Then she had to stay and help me with a shower and dressing…..I was thankful for her help…but I was so disappointed with my self, my abilities and my life. I then made the journey down the hallway. It looked like the longest hallway I have ever seen….however, we all know it wasn’t. Then the doors opened to a therapy room filled with other individuals….individuals that were also trying to gain their independence back. So my therapists started working with me and assessing what I could do and sadly what I couldn’t do. My morning was full with all of that and then came lunch. So…I journeyed back down that long hallway to my room with assistance. I ate and rested for a few minutes before the next therapist came for her turn with me…..then more assessments and start of more therapy. Then my final walk of the day back to my room. I was exhausted….dragging feet exhausted. I fell asleep during my supper that evening. Then my kiddos and parents called. They told me about their day. Actually….our daughter did most of the talking. If you know her…..then you know what I am talking about. She gets her gift of gab from her momma. Our son shared his version of his day…short and sweet and then I talked to my parents about upcoming sports practices, gymnastics, tutoring and anything else they had going on. Then our goodbyes and shortly after that phone call came a call from my hubby and then silence. The TV was playing in the background….but the silence was deafening. So, I decided to call the nurse….brush my teeth, wash my face and go to bed. This was about 7:00 p.m. So I blindly watched TV as the tears trickled down my cheeks. I didn’t have the strength or ‘want to’ to wipe them from my face. I wanted to wallow….wallow in my sadness….wallow in my disease….wallow in the fact that my life wasn’t anything that it used to be. This went on a couple of days…..then I got a roommate. This sweet lady was 93, a retired teacher, a twin and had had a stroke. As the days unfolded we discovered that we had things in common and then many things that we could learn from each other. She lived on her own and had a swimming pool that she swam in every day until the weather got too cold. Then she would go to the senior center for her daily swims. She had a colored turban for every little outfit she wore. Quite the fashionable little lady. She had the sweetest voice and smile. I often wander about her….if she has passed on or still alive and feisty as ever. In my mind I am going to chose the latter. Then came my first visit from home…..kids and parents. What a wonderful day that was. I was so tired, but it was so good to see my kids, smell them and look at their sweet faces. I remember that next morning…walking into the therapy room…still feeling sorry for myself. That’s when I came face to face with a defining moment…..to my left was a patient that was learning to walk without a leg….to my right was a young man in a wheelchair….completely paralyzed from the neck down…..painting…..PAINTING with a brush he held in his mouth. I was hit with what felt like not a ton of bricks but quite honestly 10 tons. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes and the tightness in my throat hurt so bad from trying not to cry that I couldn’t speak. I was so ashamed of myself. I had nothing to be sad and depressed about. I I know I was blessed. I know I had therapy that day…..but all I can remember is sitting in my room that evening and telling myself “Stephanie Suzanne…. get your big girl panties on, stop feeling sorry for yourself, get up in the morning and start doing your job…..kick ass in therapy and go home”. That is what happened. I got up and worked toward being able to not need assistance in the bathroom, showering and even walking down the long hallway to the therapy room (it wasn’t so long after all). When I was done with therapy I all but crawled to my room at night and continued to do some of the therapy that I did down in the therapy room….or at least some version of therapy continued. I was going to show improvement…..end of story. Another week came and went….another weekend visit from home came and went and I was DETERMINED that I was going home as soon as humanly possible. Strides continued to be made and goals were achieved. Then I started the preparation for going home. I was ecstatic. I had to cook and bake in their kitchen area to prove that I would be able to do the same when I got home. Then came the field trip to a restaurant. This is the first time I had been outside that facility in weeks. I was excited, because if I passed this test I WAS GOING HOME!!!!! Not only did we walk to the restaurant, but we also had to handle ordering and carrying our order to our table, then eat and turn around and walk back to the facility. I DID IT. Thank you Lord in Heaven for the strength and wherewithal. I could hardly sleep the next couple of nights because I knew when my parents and children arrived I was going “to blow this popsicle stand”!!!! I thank God that I was fortunate enough to have this facility, countless therapies, my dear therapists, staff and wonderful roommate. I am also thankful that I had love and support of all of my family, friends and medical staff that never let me give up. However bad life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at. “Where there is life, there is hope.” – Desmond Tutu
“Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.” – Walt Whitman