The stigma continues. Still in rehab. No, not drug or alcohol related rehab (though the same bravery to participate in this kind is no less daunting). Not physical therapy or occupational therapy of sorts, but rather Vocational Rehab.
I Completed Vocational Rehabilitation Evaluation/Testing. I went into this with underestimating the toll this would take on me overall. I was operating on the belief and experiences of my overall work tolerances before of being able to hit the ground running with working 40-70 hours per week and still function.
Just to give you a comparison. I did 9 hours in week one and 9 hours in week 2 over a 3 day stretch for each week. I can tell you that this tuckered me out intensely beyond what I imagined. I guess I imagined a piece of cake with an opportunity to shine and show my worth and what I felt I was capable of. Instead it was full of disappointments, flares of chronic pain, a bitter dose of reality, lack of stamina, and a solid crash out after.
I would say that it is a very sobering experience and perhaps even a new level of grief that enshrouds me currently. I am not released for work yet. Volunteer hours doing something for about 3 hours a day 2-3 times per week is my understanding of the recommendation....but as a Volunteer, not an employee.
I have been fighting the girl inside my head all day who feels like she just got picked last for the team. It's almost a feeling of depression, sadness, grief, relief, flooding, and reality check all at the same time. It's that news that you walk slowly to the patient to give them because it really is hard to give them and you want to find the right words to let them know their loved one just died and you did all you could to save them, but couldn't. I feel like the one giving and getting the news at the same time. How bizarre is that???!!!
If I step back I can see how far I have truly come since the wreck. I am a hurricane of one, who perseveres and defies the odds, and breaks the mold of norms with my new normals. I am proud of myself in that regard. Yet, where I always got the most satisfaction and fulfillment in my life prior to the wreck was my intellectual abilities and stamina to live up to all that was not only what I felt was expected of me, but what I expected of myself.
Now, that has all seemingly changed. My mental desires far exceed their own realistic capabilities. Talk about personal betrayal. This adjustment of self I would say is the hardest...even above surviving all the obvious orthopedic injuries and the seeming limitations they bring.
Kind of gloomy results and outcome, yet the gift of life is given with each breath I take and there is a deeper obligation to pay back or balance gratitude vs. grief by not giving up or giving in....so Rehab continues...on all levels.