The Blink of an Eye by Rikke Schmidt Kjærgaard

The Blink of an Eye by Rikke Schmidt Kjærgaard

Author:Rikke Schmidt Kjærgaard
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: The Experiment
Published: 2019-04-01T18:43:32+00:00


eight

Walking

In Intensive Care and Infectious Diseases, they had tended me, cared for me, brought me back to life—and now that I was no longer in danger, their job was done. It was time for me to move on to the next stage of my recovery. After forty-nine days at the university hospital, I was transferred to one of the best rehabilitation centers in the country.

My emotions were mixed. I knew this meant I was going in the right direction, but it also felt as if I were being cast out to fend for myself, a bit like leaving home to go to college. I knew there would be people to help me, but I also knew that I would have to be more independent.

I was given a room in the Early Neuro-Rehabilitation Clinic—a section for patients with very little cognitive ability and movement. My room was small and white, unwelcoming and horribly unfamiliar. Everything felt wrong about it. Peter tried to cheer me up and arranged my photos so that I could see them from my bed. But it didn’t help that much. And it turned out I was still utterly dependent on others, except in a strange, new environment with new people and strict new rules and routines. It was so difficult adjusting and I woke each morning with a growing sense of dread.

Ever since being admitted to hospital, my kidneys had not been working properly. When the first drops of urine had appeared in my catheter bag, this had been a major turning point and a reason for optimism, as it meant my kidneys had started working again. Not very well, though, and my doctors in Intensive Care thought it might never come to more than this. But ever so little was better than nothing and even if I were to be on lifelong dialysis, it would be assisted by my own body, and as such was a sign that I had begun to contribute to keeping myself alive. This had been an important step forward, the foundation of self-respect. I was proud, simply because this was something I could do on my own.

At the rehabilitation center I was still stuck with my catheter bag, transparent and yellow. It had faded a little as a symbol of triumphant survival and was beginning to become a bit of a problem, a reminder of what I couldn’t do and of my utter dependence upon others.

One morning, as I lay in my bed, two nurses were talking across me.

“Where should I put the jar?” said one of the nurses.

“Just put it by the door,” replied the other.

They were deciding where to put the urine they had emptied from my bag. My eyes followed their movements. Still unable to talk very much or move more than a fraction, I lay there following a conversation as if I were not present.

“Be careful not to spill it,” the second nurse continued. “Do you remember when I accidentally kicked a jar and that urine went all over the place?” the other nurse replied, laughing.



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