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Last Day

The last few days we were at the rehab were tense.  The fear of the unknown, when we would be going home, how we would get by on our own, setting up rehab and doctors at home.  The “go home” date seemed to change a million times during those final few days.  I could tell the nerves were setting in for both of us at the undertaking we were about to embark upon.  There was a comfort in the way things were.  We had our routine down, we knew the schedule, the people, all the players in our day.  We knew when we had to be where and what needed to be done.  The thought of going home and having to put it all together ourselves terrified both of us.  I know my daughter had no doubt that I would handle everything as I always did, but inside I was a wreck.  I knew the worst was over, but it felt like an unmanageable task to even get her home.  Then the time came where we would practice getting in and out of my car.  That’s apparently the last step.  I wanted her to be transported home by a professional, but that was not an option.  I would put her in my car along with her pillows and back brace and assorted things to keep her comfortable and drive her the four hours home.  I was nervous about the bumps, the traffic, the timing.  What if she had to go to the bathroom?  What if she was uncomfortable?  What if God Forbid, the way my luck was, we got in an accident or stuck in traffic for hours.  The different scenarios were playing in my head and I was trying to play out the arrival at home.  How it would all work.  I was trying not to have too many expectations, but it was hard for me.  I wanted everything to be ok for everyone and I was too emotionally and physically drained to figure out what all that was.  It was late in the afternoon on a Tuesday when the nurses came in to tell us we would be being released the following day.  Wednesday we would leave for home.  Wednesday we would arrive home the same time jolly guys kids were coming home from camp and his sister was coming in to visit.  It was happening.  It was all falling at the same exact time and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  I was excited and scared and a range of emotions I’m not really even sure I could decipher if you asked me.  It was a long time coming.  Five weeks since we had been home.  I got on the phone with Jolly guy to arrange where she would be sleeping and how we would manage getting her around the house.  Her room was on the lower floor of the split level house we lived in and we would have to move one of the kids downstairs so that she had all she needed right next to my room.  He would make the necessary arrangements of the rooms and set everything up.  I spent the afternoon ordering groceries online to be delivered to the house so it was ready for our arrival.  I spent the afternoon on the phone making doctors appointments and filling out paperwork for the rehab for our departure.  I went to the hotel and told the front desk that I would finally be leaving.  That night they sent up a note and chocolate covered strawberries.  The note said “You have been with us for a few weeks and every day we see your dedication to your daughter and your family.  You are a strong woman don’t ever forget that.  You will get through this and we want you to know you will be in our thoughts and in our hearts as the recovery of your daughter continues.  Here is a little something on us.”  Again I sat in that hotel room, for the last time and cried.  I was scared.  I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders and knew I had to find the strength to do this.  I had no idea in the happenings of the past few weeks and the happenings of my entire life, what catastrophic events had not yet even taken place for me.  I already thought I’d hit rock bottom, especially with this near fatal accident.  I was so naïve.

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