It's a Love Hate Thing
I wanted to post about another person that has had a tremendous impact on me while I have been traversing this adventure. He was introduced into my life almost three years ago. We ended up becoming good friends and even served in the Young Men's organization together.
I knew I was in trouble, when he showed up at the hospital with his family to visit, and the last words as he left;
"Most likely insurance will only cover home health two to three days a week for physical therapy, then we will transition to outpatient and I can continue to abuse you there. But don't worry, I will show up the other two or three days. I am calling it ministering, so you can't say no!"
At the time I was still in major shock, and had absolutely zero idea what that would mean. I continued to receive almost daily text messages or phone calls from my friend and future task master. He always asked how things were progressing and how I was coping.
The day I finally escaped the hospital he had called me, while we drove home. He had already scheduled my new patient evaluation and was headed my way that night. Without missing a beat, he was at my door ready for pain, to cause pain. Like he promised several weeks prior, he was at my house, working get get as many tears, or screams out of me as possible.
I knew I was in trouble, when he showed up at the hospital with his family to visit, and the last words as he left;
"Most likely insurance will only cover home health two to three days a week for physical therapy, then we will transition to outpatient and I can continue to abuse you there. But don't worry, I will show up the other two or three days. I am calling it ministering, so you can't say no!"
At the time I was still in major shock, and had absolutely zero idea what that would mean. I continued to receive almost daily text messages or phone calls from my friend and future task master. He always asked how things were progressing and how I was coping.
The day I finally escaped the hospital he had called me, while we drove home. He had already scheduled my new patient evaluation and was headed my way that night. Without missing a beat, he was at my door ready for pain, to cause pain. Like he promised several weeks prior, he was at my house, working get get as many tears, or screams out of me as possible.
Those first four weeks straight up sucked. I don't know if you are familiar with Clonus or Muscular Tone and Spasticity:
clo·nus
/ˈklōnəs/
noun
MEDICINE
- muscular spasm involving repeated, often rhythmic, contractions."the patient suffered partial seizures accompanied with clonus in the left arm"
Spasticity and Tone is a condition in which certain muscles are continuously contracted. This contraction causes stiffness or tightness of the muscles and can interfere with normal movement, speech and gait. Spasticity is usually caused by damage to the portion of the brain or spinal cord that controls voluntary movement.
While in the hospital my therapists nicknamed me, "Clonus King," along with other nicknames to possibly be named later, but will always be denied. This actually got worse as I got home. It got so bad that jokingly, this therapist would pat me on the leg and say good job, just to watch my leg dance.
A normal Clonus test would count the number of beats my foot would dance. We gave up after we were reaching over one hundred consistently, and moved to a stop watch. This was much more entertaining.
We may or may not have had some fun at new students behalf once we transitioned over to outpatient.
Through every step of the way my "friend" has been there laughing at me as I tried to touch my nose, or as he would "stretch" my shoulder and he would push it just that one inch further, knowing I was coming off the couch or table, ready to cry.
He figured out very quickly I was easily motivated by ego. Simply by talking a little smack, he knew I would fight for that three extra repetitions. This, along with my gnarley scar, sealed my other nickname that is still used by all of the therapy team, as well as my wife and kids... Nope this is a cliff hanger for now. I'm sure he doesn't want me to steal his thunder.
This therapist has also enabled me to spend more than double the amount of scheduled time each session. My appointments are always scheduled for 45 minutes, but the shortest appointment I've ever spent, through home health or outpatient has been over 90 minutes.
This friend has been a huge blessing in my life. He has donated hours upon hours to my aid, as well as always there as a friend, ready to kidnap and babysit me, so my amazing wife can get a break. He has been excellent at pointing out the small victories and successes, along each step of the journey. He then laughs and says:
"You probably won't ever feel or see any difference, about the time you see improvements, I have already made it a lot more difficult."
Thank you my friend, for your willingness to be there and to keep kicking my butt. Maybe this will buy me a few brownie points at therapy Monday, but probably not, most likely the opposite will be my fate... Honestly though, I wouldn't want it anyother way.
-Nate Taylor
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