Locked In Locked Out by Shawn Jennings

Author:Shawn Jennings
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2019-01-04T00:00:00+00:00

Over at physiotherapy, things were improving but very slowly. I progressed from standing on the tilt table to standing by myself holding on to a ladder-like structure attached to the wall. Mereille placed my hands on a rung as high as she could stretch my rigid arms, then gave me a boost while holding on to my weak hands, and I was standing.

I didn’t feel very confident; my knees wanted to buckle, my thighs screamed with the weight, my hamstrings cramped, my calves burned, and I held on like I was about to fall down a cliff. Mereille asked me to bend my knees, hold the position, and then stand back up again. It wasn’t hard, bending; it was hard to hold it and impossible to straighten my knee. My leg shook under the strain, but with effort I slowly straightened it.

“Gooda!” shouted Mereille. “Two more!”

What seems impossible sometimes becomes possible with effort and the kind of encouragement I received from Mereille. It was never easy; advances were achieved with sweat. I didn’t realize then, but this stage was easy compared with what it would be like later. Rigidity was becoming my enemy. When I tried to sit, my hips would not bend and I went down as though my back and pelvis were fused together. I could not stick my behind out, and that prevented me from sitting far back in the wheelchair, which became a major frustration because whoever was helping me had to grab my pants and pull me back, creating a tightness in my groin commonly called a wedgie. Very uncomfortable!

About this time, Mereille had me stand beside the exercise mat with my hands on a bedside table. My balance was poor. I required assistance to stand, because as soon as I put any effort into doing something, my tone kicked in, extending my back and pulling me backward. Eventually, I was able to stand with support and had gained enough strength in my legs that at the end of August, Mereille tried me with a walker.

In occupational therapy, Doreen was encouraged enough by my left-hand improvement to rig a mobile armrest and keyguard to aid me in typing at a computer. The armrest, which had the ability to swing in any direction, held my elbow because I was too weak to hold my arm up for typing. The keyguard had holes over each key so that I could move over the surface without picking up my hand or striking each letter. I took these devices home on the weekends so I could use my computer.

Around this time, Beth devised a small letter board taped to a lap pillow that enabled me to spell words by sliding my arm over the surface and pointing my finger at a letter instead of using the eye-gaze board. This made conversations much easier and less tiresome for me. I could converse using more abstract ideas and therefore explain what I was thinking in greater clarity.

Around this time, by the

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