Last year,
my first ‘fifteen years’ post shared the devastation I felt from it being 1.5
DECADES since the cruel and unfaithful God had so wantonly destroyed my entire life
with the brain tumour, multiple botched surgeries and subsequent massive
stroke. This year, I can thankfully share about my joy from being released from
the insane asylum for 1.5 decades!
Oh, the
insane asylum is my pet nickname for the Brain Injuries Rehabilitation Unit of
the Princess Alexandra hospital. I called it the insane asylum because I had to
spend about one year rehabbing there after my brain injury and it sent me up
the wall! (Not literally, of course. Unfortunately, the cruel and unfaithful
God has left me too physically disabled to climb any walls… only surely most
able-bodied people can’t climb walls either because there’s no hand/footholds
to cling onto?) The average patient stay lasts for six months to nine months
but my stay was like 1.25 YEARS because apparently the doctors kept wanting to
send me to some nursing home but mother kept insisting she wanted to bring me
home?
In the
fifteen years since, I’ve worked hard to regain all those physical abilities
taken away by the cruel and unfaithful God that comes naturally to most
able-bodied people, like standing and walking. Sometimes I can’t help but
wonder does mother just very conveniently ‘forget’ that the doctors at the
hospital initially told her that I’d never even stand again, let alone
walk? In light of that, I don’t think I’m doing too badly. Just because
standing and walking come to her as easily as breathing does, doesn’t mean it’s
the same for me! Every time I’m upright I’ve gotta think about which leg I’m
moving next, which side my weight should be on… I’m forever conscious and
freaking out that my next step could result in me stacking it. >< I try
my hardest to avoid any falls because were I idiotic enough to stack it, I wouldn’t
be able to get myself back upright without assistance. Like, I’d just be
sitting with bum on the floor, waiting for someone to walk past the place where
I’ve fallen and then extend an arm out, asking to be pulled back upright
please.
Mostly I’m
grateful that despite the cruel and unfaithful God’s awful intention to leave
me wheelchair-bound for life I can still walk some. Sure, it’s with a disabled
gait and I must wear an orthotic over my affected foot if I am to walk at all
since she inverts (twists out) once I place weight on her but I’m not stuck in
a wheelchair. I attend multiple sessions of stressful physio weekly and it’s
like the bane of my existence, but hey. XD I despair that I will ever be able
to ambulate normally ever again like everyone else but what can I do except to
roll outta bed every morning and give it my all? There are mornings when I wake,
realise what I have in store that day, wanna pull the covers back over my head
and deny even that the world exists, but the teddy keeping me company in bed
encourages me to get up and face the day, with the promise that he’ll be
waiting for me when I crawl into bed that night. ^^ XD
The other
thing I’m grateful for’s the amount of good quality sleep I get nowadays.
Nightmares are now a thing of the past and I try and forget those hellish
nights, weeks and months I spent imprisoned in the insane asylum, where sleep
wasn’t an option. Like, once I’d fallen asleep, the cruel and unfaithful God
would send me a horrifying nightmare. They were all the same: it’d be dark and I’d
be standing outside our house on the dark bitumen road after the driveway. I’d
turn around frantically in circles, calling desperately for my parents yet they’d
never come. Suddenly I’d remember that I’m too physically disabled to spin
around in circles, lose my balance and fall to the ground, screaming. Eventually
I’d jerk awake with terror and want to cry out for my parents but realise I
couldn’t coz I’m in hospital and surely, I’d get into trouble should I cause a
ruckus and disturbed my roommates? I’d eventually fall back asleep again, only
for the cruel and unfaithful God to again send me the terrifying nightmare.
Repeat until I was finally released from the insane asylum. At first, I’d jerk
awake in the middle of the night, terrified that I was all alone again but
after seeing the nightlight in my room I’d reassure myself that I was safe and
fall back asleep. Seriously, the first thing I did upon release was SLEEP!
Like, I’d sleep-in till like 11/11:30am and then get up, eat some brunch and
maybe like read/watch television for a while. Around 3pm I’d tell mum I’m
sleepy, afternoon nap time. Only this wasn’t like a thirty-minute afternoon
nap, it was more like a three/four HOUR nap! After dearest dad got home from
work, I’d get up and have dinner with him but by about 8:30pm/9pm I’d be like
mother I’m sleepy. Going to bed now, good night. This carried on for about one
month; it got to the stage where mother was seriously considering to take me to
see the doctor because surely it can’t be normal to sleep your life away?
Luckily, around that time my body clock finally began readjusting and I began
to pull outta it; now, I’m fine with the normal eight hours of sleep that
everyone else gets but my teddy still loves a sleep-in every now and again. XD
There are
only two things I miss about life in the insane asylum. The first are the
bedrails. I dunno how the beds there are structured nowadays, but back when I was
imprisoned there both sides of the bed had rails. Before leaving every night,
the parents would pull them up and lock them in place, ensuring that I couldn’t
fall outta bed. When I was first released from the insane asylum, one night I was
lying on my back waiting to fall asleep when I suddenly decided I felt like
sleeping on my right side. So I rolled – but rolled too far – and plop! Landed on
the floor! I remembered that dearest dad was out that night having a drink with
his mates, meaning ‘twas only mother and I home. I like SHRIEKED, “MUM!! HELP!!
I’ve fallen outta bed!!!” I heard no verbal response but could hear mother
noisily pounding around upstairs so knew she’d heard me.
When mother
opened the door to find her only and very physically disabled daughter lying on
a crumpled heap on the ground, do you know what she did? She LAUGHED! I mean,
what kinda mother would do that to her own child?? Okay, in her defence she
checked I wasn’t injured before laughing her head off, but I’m still wounded
for life. XD
The only
other thing I miss about life in the insane asylum is the tea. We/us inmates
(patients XD) were DROWNED in it, with SIX cups every day! Yup, breakfast, morning
tea, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and supper. I take mine white (lots of milk,
please) with two sugars. When I was
first released from the insane asylum mother immediately cut the six cups
everyday to just only one (the arvo tea cuppa) per day. After a while, she cut
out white tea from my diet entirely, giving me just peppermint, Chinese or
green tea. When that happened, Saturdays became my favourite day of the week
since mother works Saturdays and I’d have a carer to help me up and spend four
hours with me. Inside those four hours, she’d feed me three big mugs of white
tea with two sugars. For some reason, dad didn’t like that and he hid the sugar
somewhere. That’s alright: for several weeks I just had my three mugs of white
tea with one big spoonful of honey instead. Only dad saw me take the tea with
honey and he hid that too! My last resort was to take my white tea with golden
syrup, but now that’s been hidden too, I guess my last resort is having a small
cuppa with two sugars whenever I attend GCCW on the second and fourth Thursdays
of each month. Well, beggars can’t be choosers …
Doesn’t
matter! The pros far outweigh the cons of life in the insane asylum. Besides,
if the doctors had had their way, I would’ve been sent to some nursing home and
would surely be six feet under by now, since mother’s forever harping on about
how if she wasn’t SAINTLY enough to bring me home I’d have eaten myself to
death in some nursing home. XD
Yes, life’s
a struggle. Doesn’t look like it’s gonna get easier anytime soon/in the near
future/ever, but I suppose all I can do’s live each day as it comes, always
rise above the cruel and unfaithful God’s near-overwhelming hatred and make the
most outta whatever I’ve got left. Apparently, attitude’s everything? Well, I’m
determined to keep a good attitude and CELEBRATE that today marks 1.5 DECADES
since I was let outta the insane asylum, woot!
Cheers~
P.S. Next
post here: perhaps my review of the Super Mario movie?
