Recovering from injuries or illnesses is never an easy task. Depending on the nature of your ailment, you could be out of commission for a day or two, but recovering from other ailments can take much longer to recover from, and even then total recovery is never guaranteed. As a continuation/follow-up of last week's article about my accident, I want to share the first step that I took on the road to recovery: my week in the hospital.

Early in the morning the day after my accident, I was taken in for surgery. I was told that I was going to be given a local anesthetic around my ankle, a regional block for my entire leg, and a general anesthetic to keep me asleep the whole time. The last thing I remember before going to sleep was the surgeons trying to find the best place for the regional block, and poking me in the butt with needles. One of the needles caused my muscle to start twitching, and the last thought I had was "oh great, I'm half twerking in front of a bunch of doctors". When I came to, it was around noon and lunch had been brought for me. I was quite thrilled, since it was the first actual food I had gotten to eat since the stale, cold bagel that was left in my car that I had the day before. I don't remember exactly what it was, but it was pretty good. Despite the constant digs about the quality of hospital food, I found everything fairly enjoyable. Maybe that's just the fact that I like food talking.

The next week that I spent in the hospital felt like one of the longest weeks I had ever had. Between the nurses and hematologists coming to take my blood at six in the morning every morning, trying and failing to get comfortable, and being unable to go anywhere or do anything on my own, it would have been quite miserable. However, the support of my family and friends made everything much more bearable. My grandmother insisted on staying with me for the first couple of days until I finally convinced her that I would be just fine on my own, and that she should go home and get some rest. One of my aunts brought her tablet for me to use, which I put to good use when I couldn't find anything on TV. Surprisingly, this didn't happen too often, especially considering the time I found "Les Miserables" and thought I was going to make everyone hate me for singing too loudly (which of course I didn't), and the fact that one of my favorite movies - "The Princess Bride" - was in their selection of On Demand movies. She also brought me a package of mini-cupcakes for my birthday, which I insisted on offering to anyone who set foot in my room (even the hematologists who woke me up in the morning 😂 ).

About half way through my stay, my sister and a couple of my friends came to visit me, making for one of the most exciting days of my hospital stay. My sister brought me some birthday presents, including a soft, warm blanket and one of my first tastes of Panera. One of my friends painted my toenails, so despite the fact that they were poking out of a cast, they still looked fabulous. My other friend just came to visit, but her presence was a present in and of itself. Truly, that day was a highlight of my days in the hospital.

Despite the circumstances, there were moments of hilarity to be found in my situation. At one point late in the week, I had been given some supplies to clean myself up while in the comfort of my bed. Since I hadn't even showered since before the accident, getting to clean up was a treat. Because there wasn't anything else on to watch while I did so, I decided to turn on and watch the Oscars for the first time. Of course, this was the night that Leonardo DiCaprio finally won his first Oscar. I found myself staring at the TV and saying "Leo, I'm sorry I waited so long to help you see this day. Please forgive me," out of pure shock that it had finally happened.

Although there are many anecdotes about my time in the hospital, it certainly was not an easy stay. I could only be in one of three locations: my bed, the chair right next to my bed, or the bathroom. If I wanted to change places, I had to call one of the nurses to help me get from point A to point B since I couldn't do it alone. I went through physical and occupational therapy each day to keep up the strength in my right leg, since I clearly wasn't going to be able to use it like I normally had for a few months at least. Due to my prior experience of having a blood clot, I was back on blood thinner injections twice a day which left my belly painfully bruised, despite my best efforts to avoid bruising myself. At some point, the realization that I wouldn't be able to go on the trip to Paris that one of my classes was taking hit me, and I cried about it for quite a while. The fact that I wouldn't be able to work and that I'd have bills to pay with no money to pay it with was gut-wrenching. Every day that passed by was another day that I was missing school and falling behind. Despite having to recover from physical trauma and stress, I was under more emotional and mental stress than I had been in for quite a while. Although my literal first step on the road to recovery was still a few months down the road, the metaphorical first step was just as difficult as anyone could have imagined it to be. Of course, the steps to come would be just as difficult as well.