A New Start, A Successful Start?

I finally got a space in the rehabilitation hospital and I transferred there directly from the acute care hospital.   It had an amazing atmosphere with wide uncluttered hallways and cheery colours.  I was lucky enough to get a private room with my own bathroom.  The unit had an eating area where all the patients went to dine.  I got to know others with neurological conditions like mine and it was great socialization.  The meals were great and I began to eat again.  I needed to start eating because I had lost 50 pounds since the beginning of my illness and was below the ideal weight for my height.  Everyone from the unit  also went to therapy sessions together.   I felt like part of a community.  

After six weeks in rehabilitation, I was ready for discharge.   I progressed from not being able to pick up a pencil to writing again.  I could walk unassisted but I used my walker for for long distances for safety.  The only limitations that remained that affected my functional status was: my inability to manage stairs; I could not kneel due to loss of feeling in my knees; I continued to have nerve pain and numbness in my hands and feet; and I experienced poor balance in the dark or with my eyes closed.  I needed a stair railing and would lean against the wall as I ascend or descend the stairs and did it very slowly.  I needed a bath seat in the shower to use for when I closed my eyes to shield them from water or shampoo.  I avoided kneeling because it felt like I was kneeling on thick gel pads that dug deep into my knee joint  and it hurt.  Medications took care of the  pain in my hands and feet but they felt constantly tingly and numb. I got used to the numbness and felt it only when I thought about it however could not walk outside without shoes because if I walked on even a pebble it felt like a sharp knife piercing my feet.  I constantly dropped things I was holding in my hands without noticing so I adapted by strengthening my grip.

To determine if I could in fact live on my own my sister Diana had arranged for me to go to an assisted living suite on a trial bases. The suite included a kitchen with dishes and a bathroom to use to take care of myself.  Laundry facilities were available in the basement.   If I got into trouble, I could call for help and staff within the building would be available to assist me almost immediately.

I managed well and just after two weeks I knew I could be on my own.  Because my house sold I was looking for an apartment or townhouse to rent.  My friend Eddie agreed to drive me around and look at some places I found ads for.  I did not ask my sisters to assist with this because they did not think I could manage my dogs and would direct me towards places that do not allow pets.  It was important to me that I get my dogs back.  I had lost so much and I did not want to loose them too.  They were my family.

Eddie was one of the angels in my life.  She is one of those people who brightens up a room when she enters.  Her quiet, calm, kind, confident demeanour made everyone feel safe in her presence.  Her life was dedicated to helping others and I was blessed that she helped me.  She picked me up at the assisted living facility late one morning and by early afternoon we found a place that would accept my dogs.  It was a townhouse with a small back yard where I could enjoy gardening and let my dogs out to do their business.  

The townhouse was not ideal for me however.  It was built on a hill and had five flights of stairs.  Each living area was separated by stairs.  The effort it was going to take to manage all those stairs  was a compromise I was willing to make because keeping my dogs was my priority.  I filled out the tenant form and left it with the site manager who had to do a credit check.  Because I did not have a phone in the assisted living facility, Eddie provided her phone number for the site manager to get back to us.  Eddie then took me for lunch and while we eating the site manager called and said that the townhouse was mine and that I could move in at any time.

Eddie dropped me off back at the assisted living facility. I called my sister Diana and we talked about the logistics of the move into the townhouse and all of the things I would need to get to furnish it.   Nothing had been removed from my house when it sold and so I had nothing to move into the townhouse.

 To start living independently in the townhouse I needed furniture, dishes, cooking utensils, window coverings, linens, personal care items and clothes.  My family donated enough furniture to furnish every room except the bedroom which was a good start.  I went on a local Web site where people advertise things they are selling and I spotted a bedroom set that I liked.  It was vintage, from the late fifties, early sixties, looked in good shape and was cheap.  Trisha went to look at it and reported that it was cute and in good shape and so she bought it for me.

Diana nailed down a time when she and her husband could come up, gather up the furniture  donated from my family as well as the bedroom set that I bought.  They couldn't get up for a week so I spent that week on a Web site where people placed ads for things they were selling, to find things that I could decorate my new home with.  I could not drive yet and did not have my car so I could only buy things that people were willing to deliver to the assisted living facility.  There was a couple of things I just had to have and Eddie agreed to pick them up for me.  It was a good thing I could not drive because it kept the number of my purchases I made on that Web site down.

The day of my move arrived.  Diana and her husband got all the furniture into the townhouse and arranged them in their designated rooms.  They were not happy about the stairs.  Diana then picked me up from the assisted living facility and took me to my new home.  The place looked sparse compared to my last house.  It did not look homey. I was not used to so much empty space.   My brother Jim and sister Trisha were there as well as Diana's husband.  Jim was there to assist with lifting the furniture and delivered something I had inquired about from the Web site.  It turned out that his wife was the one that placed the ad I responded to.  They laughed when they realized that it was me that responded to their ad and decided to surprise me with the item at the townhouse as a gift.

I think Trisha was more excited about my new home than I was.  She insisted that I look at my new bedroom suite. 

"I told them your story and they threw in sheets and an ironing board" she said proudly of her accomplishment in securing the bedroom suite with the added perks.

I was happy with the bedroom furniture and thanked Trisha.

"Just think how this room will look when you get the bed made and window coverings up"  Trisha said with excitement.  'I have to go and touch base at home but will be back later.  Meanwhile Diana is going to take you shopping for dishes and window coverings and linens" she added.

Diana took me to the local Scandinavian big box store to buy linens and window coverings.  We were successful finding everything we needed and headed home to install the window coverings.  As we drove back to the townhouse I observed the traffic on the road and the houses we passed.  "I wonder where that driver is headed" I thought of the car in front of us.  I saw a car drive up the driveway to a house and I wondered where those people driving that car had been, and whether they were happy to be home, or did they come home to overwhelming problems.  I don't remember reflecting on these things when I was out driving prior to my hospitalization.  I had de-humanized the drivers of vehicles in traffic forgetting that it was a  person driving on their own journey and had their own perspective of the world.  "Everyone has their own perspective of the world therefore there are as many worlds as there are people" I thought.   I had not been so introspective before and likely my experience with my illness and disabilities prompted new perspectives and new thoughts.

When Diana and I got back to the townhouse we got the window curtains and shades up however we ended up with an extra panel for the kitchen. The next day she took me shopping for dishes and other household essentials and to return that extra panel of kitchen drapes.  On that second day of shopping we had a good day and got most of what I needed to cook and clean.  Our seamless productive two days ended however when we returned to the Scandinavian box store to get a refund for the extra kitchen curtain panel.  

When we entered the Scandinavian store, the customer service counter which included returns and refunds were immediately to the left.  On the right of the entrance was a bench along a wall which lead to the cashier area.  Diana suggested that I sit on the bench while she got through the line up to the customer service counter.  I sat down and looked around.  The line up to the customer service counter was quite lengthy so I got up and entered the store.  I looked at vases, storage containers and decorative pillows.  My legs started to bother me and it was about time I anticipated that Diana had got through the line up so I went back to the entrance of the store.  I saw Diana sitting on the bench.  Her shoulders were so drooped I don't know what was holding her up.  She stared straight forward with a blank stare.  As I approached her she saw me but her facial expression remained unchanged.  

"Did you get it returned?" I asked

"No" she said, "I had the wrong receipt."

"Oh crap", I replied.  I looked in my purse, found the correct receipt for the curtain panel and gave it to her.

"You don't have to get to the back of the line again." I asked.

"Yes, I have to" she said exhaling a deep breath.

"I'm sorry"  I said.  "I'll meet you back here in a few minutes."

Diana went back to line up for customer service again and I returned  to the store.  I looked at book shelves and desks briefly then returned to the bench.

I saw Diana sitting on the bench, this time she sat leaning forward resting her elbows on her knees.  Her face was again frozen and blank looking straight forward.  She looked stunned and I don't think she even blinked.

As I approached her I asked, "Job done?"

"No, they need your credit card to refund the money."

I got the credit card from my wallet and gave it to her.  Again I told her I was sorry but now she looked like she was in a stupor trying to anaesthetize herself from any frustration and I'm not sure if she heard me.

Diana went back and stood in line again, this time I sat on the bench by the cashiers.  Soon she returned.  Her walk was laboured like every cell of her body was heavy being dragged down by gravity.  The curtain panel was still in her hand.

"What now?" I asked.

"They need your signature" she said with little breath behind her voice.  This time I returned to the lineup with her.  We made our way to the counter and went through the refund process. I signed for my credit card refund and the errand was done.

I wanted to laugh at Diana's body language through out the whole process of returning the curtain panel if it weren't so frustrating for her. Back in her vehicle and on our way back to my townhouse I asked her how she felt.  

"I would have rather put pins in my eyes"  she said.  Then I laughed but not without regard for her tenacity to get things done.  Her fortitude is definitely her strong quality.

When she left that day I sat on one of my loaned chairs in my new living room.  I looked around and thought about how simple the place looked.  There was nothing on the floor or furniture; I had nothing to put on the floor or furniture.  I thought about the contrast of this new place to my previous home.  There was a world of difference.

Because nothing was done to tidy up my house before it was sold, it was listed as sight unseen and the buyer unknowingly inherited the horror inside.  I felt bad for whoever bought it and could imagine their disgust, surprise and colourful verbalizations as they entered the house.  I felt better however, when I found out it was a real estate agent who intended to do renovations and sell it.  It was a bigger job than he expected I would think.  And so I went from a home that I destroyed, to this new townhouse with nothing but furniture and essentials.  Was the move all that was needed to cure my hoarding I wondered?  At that moment I could not predict whether I was going to continue to hoard.

As a well known psychiatric television personality says "You can't fix what you don't acknowledge".  I have been transparent about being a hoarder to all the medical professionals I have been involved with.  However I didn't understand what precipitated my hoarding and therefore had not yet  acknowledge the underpinnings of the disorder.  I didn't know why I hoarded at that point. 

All I knew was that tomorrow I would call the kennel's where my dogs were and make arrangements to have them delivered to me in my new home.  I was so excited to see them.