It finally happened: Monday morning I was deemed medically stable enough for discharge from the inpatient section of Shepherd after just better than seven weeks. Just prior to discharge I had a graduation ceremony in the gym, during which music chosen by me (Everybody Wants to Rule the World) was played, and then faded to background while I was feted by my therapists (occupational, physical and recreational) for my various accomplishments, and festooned with such honors as "Most likely to drop the F-bomb during therapy", "Rule Breaker", and, my favorite, "Most likely to be seen with loafers in therapy" (Thanks, Craig). Naturally, there were no dry eyes (or Depends) following my acceptance speech and unsolicited words of advice to those still in therapy. Having decided to pursue outpatient rehab here as well, we (i.e. Nancy) moved all our belongings and medical supplies to our new home in an apartment adjacent to the main facility provided by Shepherd, and settled in for our first night together since the mishap with no backup. It was just the two of us with no one to help with the various transfers, bathroom activities, shopping, food preparation, making the bed, doing laundry, etcetera. No big deal for me, but a huge burden suddenly dropped into the lap of Nancy, and one to which she has adapted amazingly, and for which I continue to be grateful (let's just say I owe her bigly).[...]

One of my observations while rehabbing is how spinal cord injuries seem to be an equal opportunity discriminator. Sure, it's mostly younger males* (see below for an original bad joke), but we're a pretty diverse group: all socioeconomic sectors are represented, from blue collar to CEO, and everything in between. What has also struck me is the diverse manner in which each of us injured our spinal cords. While there is a unsurprising prevalence of motorcycle, bicycle and motor vehicle accidents, there is a surprising number of freaky one-off mishaps, including falling off of a deck while throwing a watermelon rind onto the compost heap, trampoline accidents, Slip 'n Slide catastrophes, infections, and spinal cord strokes, to name but a few. Without fail it strikes randomly and in a flash, and leaves its victims temporarily stunned and laid low. But the human spirit is more resilient than the delicate fibers of the spinal cord, and before very long the will to live and make the most of what is left asserts itself. I've witnessed it in myself and every one of my compatriots: we arrive dazed, weak, and utterly demoralized, but as the weeks go by the eyes become clearer, the practiced maneuvers more certain, and the spirit brighter. [...]

"When is your discharge date?" "You doing the outpatient program?" These are questions I jealously overheard between other patients early on in my stay, but I am now the recipient of these on a daily basis as I race toward my imminent graduation from this chapter of my recovery next week. A week ago it seemed like wishful thinking, but the pace at which my body continues to strengthen and the maneuvers become more easily executed has left me incredulous at times. Of course the therapists all say, "We told you this would happen", and, of course, cynical me never believed them, but, of course, they were right. [...]

I realized after re-reading my post from last night that I left out one very important point. None of the progress made to date could have been accomplished without Nancy by my side, pushing, encouraging, comforting, making nice with the nurses, changing my sheets, and all the rest that almost never gets its proper recognition. This journey is one that the two of us are taking together, and I couldn't do it without her.[...]

Transfer, transfer, transfer. That's what much of the work I'm doing has lead up to: the ability to safely move myself from my bed to my wheelchair, from my wheelchair to a couch/chair/sofa and back, onto and back from the toilet seat, into and out of a car, etc. I've finally gotten down the mechanics of the transfer, but there are still a few more moving parts, as it were, such as positioning the feet properly so the feet/ankles don't get twisted, or making sure one's junk is kept out of harm's way, but it is coming together, finally, after weeks of baby steps. I had another motor strength assessment today, and have gained some function in several upper body muscles, but there are others that need beefing up, and so I'm getting targeted exercises in the gym from my exercise physiologist, who know just how to hone in on my weaknesses (in a good way). Hard to believe, but they say I'll be ready to graduate from the inpatient unit to outpatient rehab in just two weeks. It seems like there are still so many things I have to master before then, but I'm taking their word for it. Following 3-4 weeks of 8 hour days of OT and PT we will  then be heading back to Virginia, hopefully in time to catch some of the fall colors.[...]

I thought it might be interesting for those of you following this to know what a typical day at Shepherd involves. This morning I awoke around 7:30. My aide came in a short while later and performed my morning catheterization. My occupational therapist arrived at 8, and together we worked for 90 minutes on transferring me from the bed to the shower, taking a shower using a shower wheelchair, transferring back to the bed, drying and then dressing myself, and then transferring once more to my wheelchair. Sounds simple, but it ain't easy, although it is noticeably easier than it was a week ago. At 10 I met my recreational therapist and she took me and one of my neighbors down to the gym with more weightlifting equipment. She put me on a device that had me pushing and pulling on handlebars of sorts which moved my legs and feet in a cycling motion. This is is supposed to build endurance and improve muscle tone and blood flow of the legs. Did this for 20 minutes, and then over to another machine that allowed me to work on strengthening my back and arm muscles. I still notice some lightheadedness with exertion, but it still feels good to break a sweat again. Free from 11 to 1 for lunch, tidying up my room, listening to some music on the sweet Denon sound system sent to me by my Vinyl Club buddies (thanks Rodney, Will, Jimmy, Reid and Bob), and catheterizing myself. Typically I would have a session with physical therapy in the afternoon, but today a group of 4 patients along with our PT and OT will self propelled down Peachtree Avenue to a grocery store in order to shop for items for a cookout we're having tomorrow afternoon. Wheeling back in 90 degrees going mostly uphill left me exhausted. Most of the structured activities are over by 3 or so, leaving time for rest or even a nap.[...]

One of my oldest and best friends from growing up in Harrisonburg who now teaches at Mercer University in Macon Georgia, Robert Good, visited me last Sunday. He was one of three Roberts who were virtually inseparable throughout junior high and high school.There is something very special about sharing time with someone you’ve known since childhood, who has seen you at your best and your worst, and from whom you can hide nothing. Thanks so much for making the trek up, Rob.[...]

Now, a trip down one of the more mundane avenues of recovery from a spinal cord injury: the gut. Those of you with a weak stomach may want to skip this one. [...]

 First of all, thanks again for all the notes of support. They really do help in bolstering my mood, and remind that  I am not in this alone.   However, I have to admit that the process of rehabilitation and recovery is a good bit more challenging than I initially anticipated.  It seems like there are nearly daily setbacks, but these are almost always accompanied by corresponding steps moving forward. It is definitely a non-linear process, and I am trying to be patient, which, as most of you know, is not something that comes naturally to me.  Despite the slow progress, small milestones are achieved on a regular basis. For instance, yesterday I was able to catheterize myself for the first time, and today I put on my shoes for the first time.  The largest looming goal is to be able to transfer myself from a bed to the wheelchair, and from my wheelchair to another surface.  It sounds easy, but involves a series of small, counterintuitive movements, and has frustrated all of my efforts to date, but  hopefully for not much longer.  I am gradually gaining more strength and function in my arms and hands, but progress is slow. I won’t pretend that I haven’t become frustrated and discouraged at times, but fortunately most of these episodes have been relatively short-lived.  I can see with my own eyes just by rolling around the floor that my accident could have been much worse and left me with far more devastating injuries and long-term deficits.   I’ve also found it useful to concentrate on the immediate goals in front of me instead of  allowing the  immensity of the work and challenges that remain to overwhelm me.  Being mindful and remaining in the moment (when I can remember to) have helped me to deal with the shifting tides of pain, pleasure, sadness, joy, aversion, and grasping.....in other words, the “Full Catastrophe”, as coined by Zorba the Greek, and absconded by Jon Kabat-Zin. With the support of my amazing Nancy and the wonderfully attentive staff here at Shepherd, not to mention your well wishes, it is impossible to  stay down for long. [...]

I must say that I am at somewhat of a loss to describe how incredibly grateful I am for the outpouring of love and support I’ve received since my accident. I have been deeply touched  by all the prayers  and good vibes being sent in my direction. Words fail me, so I’ll just say thank you. Keep ‘em coming![...]