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2. Rehabilitation

After a week and a half in the hospital, I was admitted to the Vogellanden rehabilitation center in Zwolle. Arriving in the wheelchair there, I was first given an intake and then assigned a shared room. In the little under two months that I was there, I had three different roommates with whom I shared joys and sorrows. I found out that you do rehab together. Like my children, family and friends, my roommates have been a great support to me. Slowly it became clear to me what an impact the whole situation had. Some people responded by saying “nice that you are still here” and or “ nice that you are still alive.”
That hard work and perseverance is not always convenient was a great revelation to me. In the evenings I sometimes went for extra walks with the thought that I would get back to my old self faster. Until the moment the therapist pointed out to me that I had to relearn everything and take my time with that. Like as my grandson said, “grandpa, slow learning.” This caused me much confusion, frustration, pain and sadness in the first few weeks.
On the morning of July 9, there was a breaking point for me. Before breakfast, I sat on my bed and noticed that I began to lose myself in my thoughts and grief. I entered a dark tunnel and it became more and more suffocating. A big step for me was the push for help, because I couldn't get out of this on my own. Nursing came and I cried so much. Crying like a little child gulping for breath, slowly being broken. How broken I was afterwards and how nicely and lovingly I was taken care of. Several times I had such crying fits and what sadness came out. During a walking game in the gymnasium, I tried to speed up a bit with walking. I lost control of my legs and fell to the ground. The falling wasn't too bad, but the frustration of not being able to stay on my feet was enormous. This was followed by a big cry. 'Would I ever be able to walk again,' I wondered.
Setting limits: My grandson had gotten a great result at school and he got to choose where we went for dinner. It became Macdonald and for me that meant one big stimulus. I was okay with it and I knew this would take a lot of energy out of me. Next morning therapy and I had prepared myself that I would get a beating for going over my limit. But the opposite happened. I was complimented for the choice I had made based on my relationship with my grandson. That's how (my) brain seems to work. If I think something is worthwhile, they are more likely to put more energy into it. Strange and instructive how my brain works, but above all it brought me much joy. Joy because I had made a choice that turned out well.

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