Our Footprints are Different…

As I grew older, and  lot more appreciate of all my moms efforts; it amazed me all of the time and concern she gave me over the years. It was mom who spent countless hours at the hospital, at physical therapy and cheer leading me down the path of life. Now it was my turn.

I got the call early Sunday morning that mom had suffered a massive heart attack and was only alive because she was on a ventilator-the news came like a punch in the gut. I’m a believer in the glass is half full but this shook me to the core. When I walked in the hospital Sunday evening there was mom, in an induced coma struggling for her life, and there was nothing I could do. Now I was getting a flavor of what she had gone through so many years ago.

Mom was touch and go for several days. The hope was that she would regain enough strength so they could do a triple bypass surgery. Fortunately that came to be and all those hours of agonizing and feeling helpless came to pass. It made me even more appreciative of all that mom had gone through and all she had done for me on my road to recovery. I had the pleasure of spending time with her this Thanksgiving week, watching her slow but steady progress. It was a special Thanksgiving this year and it gave me added incentive to finish this book and dedicate it to my mother!

It was a spring morning in Grand Junction, Colorado. From my hospital bed I could see the sun and the first signs of Spring. Suddenly my day dreaming was interrupted by the clanging of the metal blinds against the door of my room. In burst Henry Swenson, grinning from ear to ear and the brightest twinkle in his eyes. Above his head he was carrying full leg braces and in his other hand he was carrying two of the smallest crutches I had ever seen. He stopped, looked at me and said: “Are you ready?”

I looked at Henry in stunned disbelief-I had been waiting for months to walk again. Now, the thought petrified me. There was no feeling in my legs, I could not move them-how exactly was I going to walk?

Henry looked at me and smiled and in his calming voice told me not to worry. He first helped me get into my leg braces. They were made of steel and took quite the effort to get in. Next came the crutches-they too were made out of steel. Henry got me out of bed with the help of several nurses. He locked my braces so they were straight on my legs and said let’s walk. The idea was for me to put the weight on my crutches and swing my legs out in front of me. My arms were so weak and they were shaking as my arms tried to lift all this weight.

The crutches and braces actually weighed more than me! I finally managed a “step” or two but the process made me totally exhausted.

I was totally exhausted but it was such a great experience to “walk” again. In my wildest imagination it did not occur to me how darn hard it was to “walk” again. My arms could not yet bear the weight and it was shocking how heavy those crutches and braces were. In spite of all of that I was the happiest six year old on the planet-brighter days were on the way!!

Shortly after being able to move my toes; my doctors decided it would be fine to start spending some time out of the bed and in a  wheelchair. I was never so glad to get out of that stinking bed and into the wheelchair ! It was a very small move but for me it was liked the earth moved. I felt freedom and had a feeling that maybe things would continue my way.

Since I had the full use of my scrawny arms I was able to get around in the hospital by myself. It was a complete feeling of euphoria for this six year old! Needless to say, I was relentless in asking every doctor and every nurse if I could go outside just to smell the fresh air. Right after they said no, my next question was: “why can’t I go home?”