October 23, 2019

White Dog sat with me before the "test" and gave me encouragement. "You have faced greater challenges, momma. Remember? And in the past it has been just me and you and dad. Now we have a whole army of belief, support and love to get this done." She rested her head on my shoulder and kissed me.

The physical therapist who was to assess my need for PT to regain my mobility arrived. I had already been rejected my the insurance company once but my amazing at home nurse stormed up the chain of command demanding that I be given an opportunity to heal. Today's assessment was the result and I was more than a little nervous about "proving" myself...whatever that meant.

I answered pages of questions about my digestion to my leg use and no answer triggered a give away of how the assessment was going. I tried not to be snide with questions like, "Why do you think you need physical therapy?" I wasn't sure whether to cringe or cheer when after demonstrating how I transfer and demonstrating the conditioning exercises I have been doing on my own, he noted, "Well, you and Steve certainly seem to be doing the right things and have a good system." Was it a kissoff? The FIRST assessor said almost exactly the same thing and I was rejected.  I saw White Dog and Bailey staring at me through the dog door and took a deep breath.

The assessor typed more into his laptop and then looked up. "Do you think you can stand?" I could tell it was a trick question but what was the right answer? "Not on my own but..." I trailed off. He looked at Steve.

"I know the walker you have does not fit through your doorways but could we set it up here?" He pointed to an open area next to the bed. "I would like to see if she can use the handles to stand up from the bed and then just stand as long as she can supported by only the walker. And she can sit back down whenever she feels she wants to."

I drew deep breaths and pictured the White Dog Army surrounding me as they set up the equipment. They both looked at me; I adjusted the position of the device and tested the relationship between it and where I sat. My soul reminded me I was ready and to seize the opportunity. I gripped the handles...and stood. It was the first time in three months that I was independently on my feet! I felt the surge of energy from my family as I remained up for nearly a minute....and then repeated the challenge a second time. My body was quivering from exertion now and I had tears in my eyes.

Had I succeeded or failed? The assessor typed and looked up. "I do not know how long it will take to get back to fully walking but I think it is possible. I can come once a week for the next 3 weeks."

The balloon deflated. "I don't see how that will be enough. The insurance is going to get me this far and then abandon me?"

"I will reassess then and there are some things we can do to extend coverage. For now I want you to use the walker and as homework every day attempt to stand three times for as long as you can."

He left after scheduling next week's appointment and White Dog leaped up on the bed. She covered me with kisses as the others blizzarded around to sniff the walker and my legs and press up against me in congratulations.

We are finally on the road to recovery.