The Next Step

Today, after being away for 24 days at the hospital and physical therapy facility, I am returning home.  I was only expecting to only be away for about half that time.   Although I am very excited to be returning home, I am also a wee bit nervous about it too.

Of course it will be great to be back with my husband, sleep in my own bed, and have all my personal belongings within reach.  It will be nice to have a wider range of food choices and more channels to choose from on the TV.  It will be good to have my cat sleep on my lap and have my dog follow me around, wanting nothing more than a scratch on her head.  Our home is our home, after all, and we have it set up to surround ourselves with things we need and like.

So why am I nervous?  Well, for the last 3+ weeks, I have been waited on hand and foot.  Meals have been brought to me three times a day.  Medications have been handed to me at the right time and in the correct amounts.  If something changes with my condition, even the slightest bit, I push a button and within minutes, there is a nurse by my side who can answer my question or get the answer from a doctor right away.  When I want to shower, someone gets it set up for me and cleans up afterwards.  I have pull cords by my bed and in the bathroom if I need assistance.  There are other people recovering from joint replacements that I see daily during therapy and we can share experiences, progress, and relate to what the other is going through. 

I am nervous because I know myself pretty well.  I like to do things for myself.  I push myself.  I challenge myself.  I compete with myself.  I am worried that I will do too much, too soon.  I am worried that I will forget a medication, or eat something that I am not supposed to because of its interaction with the medication.  I know that my house is bigger than my little room here and to do the same simple tasks at home, I will be doing more walking.  I worry that my pets will be by my side after my long absence, tripping me without meaning to.  

When I am ready for breakfast or lunch, I will have to get up and make it. It will not come to me on a tray, with all the needed condiments.  If I want a second cup of coffee, I will have to get up again and get it for myself.  I will not have a doctor coming to my bedside every other night checking my incision, my swelling, my breathing, and answer my questions.  No one will monitor my pulse, blood pressure, oxygen level, and temperature.

But I am ready.  I am more than ready…to go home, to move on to, as my colleague Mimi called it, the next step of my recovery journey.  I am strong, independent, determined.  I have confidence in the facility that said I am ready to go home and wean off the help I am getting here.  Wean off the medications I am taking.  Wean off the dependence I have on others to get through my day.

You can probably relate to being ready albeit nervous about the next step to something like starting college, being promoted to a job with harder responsibilities, or entering a new relationship.  When you are ready for the next step, you should try to approach it with confidence.  After all, it’s part of the journey.

Goodbye Bethel Health Care!