Why would anyone in their right mind change from a walker to a wheelchair?
It’s a step backwards, isn’t it? It seems to go against the natural progression of rehabilitation. At least that’s what everyone said. But what exactly happens if we do not follow this road? Who decides what is the right direction? Is this journey the same for everyone?
It always puzzled me. One of the first things you learn is that every stroke or head injury is different. However, for some reason we try to streamline the rehabilitation process, so it fits everyone.
Is this even possible?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not being negative, but there is that thing called ‘reality’. Shouldn’t every individual face this reality and decide for themselves which road to take (mainly in the latter stages of rehabilitation)? Of course they should be supported – but not directed.
Let me show you with an example that is very close to me. It leads up to the point where I deviated from the prescribed path of my journey of rehabilitation.
After many long days, yes, even month of doing my ‘acrobatics’ at the end of a walker, I saw someone at a cocktail party on the other side of the room. I wanted to talk to them. So, off I went, pointed my walker in the right direction and shuffled across the room making my way through all the people, bruising a few ankles in the process, because I was not aware of them. By the time I had made, it they were gone. That really got my French going.
It was at this point that I knew there was something wrong with the process. It just didn’t feel right. Here I was, working hard to walk as normal as possible, trying to get better, and pleasing my physio therapist, but at the same time I had this fear of falling. Anxiety made me concentrate more on the sick (negative) part of me, and not the social interaction (positive).
You see my dilemma. There are plenty of Positives, and plenty of Negatives on both sides of the argument. Eventually I decided, against professional advice, to use a wheelchair because I felt I missed out on this social interaction.
Of course, I would never suggest to anyone to leave their path and take a route that’s filled with potholes. But I think there comes a point in everyone’s life where they have to look at their surroundings, listen to their body, and evaluate their happiness.
No matter why we are on this journey of rehabilitation, at some stage, close to the finish line, we have to take responsibility. Not that it ever finishes. It is an ongoing task. An introverted or extraverted personality will determine the level of social involvement. There is no measuring stick for this level.
Isn’t happiness the measuring stick of an successful rehabilitation?