Physical Rehab Day 1 (Sorta)


The bloodsucker came at three AM. She left behind her telltale sign, a cotton ball held in place with white  tape. When I peeked beneath this morning the puncture below was tiny and dry. From this draw the lab will be able to tell what I'm low on, what I'm high on (potasium, blood sugar, bad but not illegal) and what adjustments in medications I will require. It's my first Monday here in physical rehab, it's 8 AM and I think they forgot me.

I'm here because of severe lower back pain that has gradually immobilized me over the past few months. I'll give more details of my back story as I go along, for today I'll stick to current events. After Friday evaluations and a treatment plan meeting set for 2 PM, I expect physical therapy and occupational therapy to start in earnest shortly.  There should be a finger stick, morning meds, a vitals check and breakfast in my room before then. Nothing has happened yet. They are not big on letting you know ahead of time around here.

I woke before 6, stiff and twisted in the position I fell asleep sometime after midnight. The blue leglifter device was still around my right ankle. This thing looks like a stiff dogleash, the kind mimes use to walk an invisible dog. I used it to lift my right leg over my left so I could turn on my side last night. Sleeping on my side is a privilege I've not had sleeping in a lounge chair in my lower level family room for the past month. It doesn't feel that good on this hard bed, but a change of position is highly recommended to prevent bedsores or skin breakdowns as they more delicately call them these days.

Too stiff to reach the leglifter, I slowly pushed my leg toward the edge of the mattress. It moved until I could sit up enough to manually push my left leg in the same direction. I could have raised the head of the bed except that remote had popped off the hand rail some time in the night. There is a potty chair at right angle to my bed, just a few steps and a half turn away. I reach it by walker and pain, a feat I could not accomplish without human support Friday when I arrived.  I do it on my own now with no less pain and fear of falling but less indignity. One visit often takes me an hour with decision making holding me back coming and going.

I just rang the call button to remind them I'm here, so things should start hopping soon. I have to stow this laptop somewhere since I don't trust security in my unlocked room yet. Lord knows they pop in on me unawares often enough with soft rap on the door to announce themselves. Last night I was on the potty chair when the male nurse and the local "computer expert" resident barged in to help me get online with the guest WiFi. When they realized my embarrassment they ducked back out.

The nurse assistant answered the button and I asked for my pain pills. I heard her announcing as she left, "Everybody wants pain pills this morning, woman. 502, 509."

Gotta go, back later to proof and write more. Hit publish post

I'm sharing an excerpt from West of Heaven today. This scen is at the ned of the will reading where Marcella first meets the housemates of Miss Sophie's Gentlemen's Parlors.

Crane’s bellow of disbelief was drowned out by a piercing shriek and a wall-shaking clatter that seemed to come from heaven. Or so Marcella imagined. 

Jean Luc scowled at the ceiling where the scuffling continued, mingled with muffled whispers and stifled giggling. “Excuse me, Miss McGovern. We’ve been troubled with squirrels in the attic.”

Sheriff White almost choked on his own laughter. “Squirrels? Ain’t never heard them called that before.”

Jean Luc clapped on his hat and stalked out. Marcella heard the ring of his boots and spurs as he took the stairs two at a time. And then the authoritative clang of them as he arrived on the floor above. The low rumble of his voice silenced all else from that quarter. 

“Ain’t nothin’ like a will-readin’ to get folks riled up,” Sheriff White said. “How are you holding up, Miss McGovern? You must be shook clear to the roots with all this. It ain’t everyday a little gal like you gets handed an unlikely set o’parents, a herd of Texas longhorns, and a hog farm all at once.”

“A hog farm, Sheriff?” Mr. Peeper said. ”I hardly think that’s the appropriate phrase to use. Despite her parentage, Miss McGovern has been raised in a genteel—”

“Please, Mr. Peeper, could I leave you gentlemen to your discussion for a moment? I need—”

“Of course, Marcella, dear, after all this you must need a breath of fresh air. Allow me to accompany you to the shade of the porch.”

“No, thank you, I can take myself where I need to go.” In truth, she’d never felt stronger. For all her years, she’d dreamed of a mother who would wrap her in her arms and kiss away her hurts. Of a father who would shower her with gifts and beg her forgiveness for leaving her so alone while he was off fighting wars and righting wrongs. But she had never dreamed this dream. The daughter of a Texas cattle baron and his light o’life. She could almost feel their blood coursing through her veins. And it was driving her to a decision she would never dare on her own. 

“You did say, Mr. Peeper, that this was my house?” 

“Most certainly.”

“Then I should be the one to see to the squirrels in my attic.” She smiled at the way Mr. Peeper’s mouth popped open and no words came out. She was glad she’d shocked him. Sheriff White had plenty to say, most of it “no, you’d best not” and other such that she had no intention of listening to. They followed her to the stairs but she ignored them. 

She did not knock at the closed door at the top of the stair. It was her house. No door should be closed to her. She grasped the latch and pushed the door open. “Mr. Desloge, I must insist you—”

Four women in various stages of shock, befuddlement, and undress stared at her. Jean Luc Desloge, his back to the door, slowly turned, a look of pure chagrin on his face. He took a deep breath and shrugged. Caught again, the devil in his eyes seemed to say. And no hope for it.

“Miss McGovern, may I present Miss Sophie’s ladies.” He stepped aside so she could see them all. “From left to right, Mary Lynn McQueen, June Bug, Glory B, and Polly. Ladies, Miss Marcella McGovern, the new owner of Miss Sophie’s Baths and Gentlemen’s Parlors.”