A Journey

I celebrated my fifty-third birthday in July. It dawned on me that holidays and celebration days had benchmarked this year. I first became ill on Halloween, arrived at RHI just before Thanksgiving, home before Christmas, back to work five days after Valentine’s Day (frankly, it was much too soon...I should have waited ‘til Easter)...and then, my birthday...celebrated with emotion and thankfulness...that I was on the road to recovery and for all those who helped me reach this day.

I was diagnosed with a rare condition known as Guillain-Barre’ syndrome. I had never heard of it and must admit it took me about a week before I could pronounce it…“Did you say Gilligan’s Baret?” All I knew was each day brought new challenges and even more frightening symptoms. I remember asking my doctor if I was going to die. He said that I would continue to get worse until the treatments began to kick in, but there were lots of people to help support me so that I could get back to where I was before I experienced these terrible symptoms. Truer words were never spoken.

The day I arrived at RHI was damp and dark and frankly, so were my spirits. I could barely stand for more than a minute or two with the help of a walker and I was still having problems breathing and swallowing. I couldn’t read because the words were blurred and jumped about the page. Through my whole illness, everyone said my positive attitude was remarkable...little did they know I was screaming and shaking on the inside. My first encounter here was with my nurse, Mary. She had a bright smile and sparkling eyes.

As she did the basic admitting tests, she was very reassuring to my adult children and me. She told me that there were lots of folks here to help me get better. She said my job was three-fold...to work hard in the gym, get plenty of rest and to eat at least 50 percent of what I was given. I could not feel hunger, so this was good advice...I simply cut everything in half and ate that portion first...and more if it tasted good.

The next day started several months of therapy that increased my strength and confidence. Even after I came home and came to outpatient therapy, the can-do attitude of the therapists kept me focused on the goal. Every small step was rewarded with smiles, pats on the back and applause. I remember the first day I came in to outpatient therapy with a cane instead of a walker. I was first greeted by a cafeteria worker who greeted me by name and congratulated me on my great progress. This is typical of the positive reinforcement and kindness I got from everyone from the doctors to the custodial staff.

As I approach the one year anniversary of my illness, I often feel like I’m watching a movie in my mind...that this year of struggle and accomplishment has happened to someone who just “looks like me.” The lack of feeling in my lower legs and feet and my loss of stamina brings me back to the reality that this is indeed happening to me and that there is still much to do to get back to 100 percent. It is with much appreciation I thank the staff of RHI, who along with the love and support of my family, friends, co-workers and neighbors, have brought me to my goal of getting my life back to nearly what it was prior to my illness. Words cannot even begin to express how grateful I am to all of you.