The Big Booty Climb

Monday. Going home today.

One week and one day ago, I climbed 69 flights at the LLS Big Climb. Today, I climbed 4. I had to, to get home. I climbed one at the hospital with my brother and the hospital physical therapist, so he felt okay holding my leg as I went up (and down) the stairs. And 3 to get up.

The main difference between stairs a week ago and today, was that I had to sit while doing them. I must say, sitting and doing 4 flights is much better than trying to sit and do 69 flights. Perspective.

I texted my brother at about 6:30 am when I officially announced to the hotel that I was ready to go home. This was supposed to put my discharge in action, AFTER my brother met with physical therapy. Of course, you can't schedule time with physical therapy so I just told him to come when he could and hopefully the timing worked out. I get that Harborview is a Trauma I hospital and you have to be nimble for the emergencies that come in, but I do think time can be scheduled a little better. Of course, I was getting discharged on April Fool's Day and of course my brother had to take advantage of that. I knew he was joking when he said he wasn't coming, and it made me smile. Everyone had been treating me with kid gloves, but not my brother.

My brother drove up from Tacoma to drive me home. He teases me, but he is a really good brother (recall: he also came up to my house on Sunday, cleaned it, rearranged it and made it safe for me). I have always felt safe with my brother, probably even when I shouldn't have. I won't tell any stories that make mom cringe now, but let's just say, he liked to torture me. He arrived at 9 am and the wait started. Physical therapy arrived about 10 am, and we whisked over to the stairwell to practice.

I had to sit down on the stairs, and then lift myself up to the next stair. My injuries made my hip-flexors and lower abs useless on both legs. So, my brother had to hold my injured leg by the straps on my brace, i had to hold the railing, while lifting my other leg up. The I lifted using my arms. It was a slow and tiring process. Going down was essentially the same, but much easier. We went up and down once, and then my discharge was approved. I used my walker to get back to my room, the furthest I had gone yet, which was about 40-50 feet.

The physical therapist told my nurse that I was good to go. Discharge started! Yay! I was going home! It was 10:30 am.

I had been warned that discharge takes a long time at Harborview. Harborview: good at trauma, not great at a ton of other things. A long time was a long time. At about 2:00 pm, my nurse wandered in with paperwork to review with me. By this time, I had had lunch delivered, my brother went and got lunch in the cafeteria, and we had watched a few too many episodes of Mythbusters. I did learn that in WWII, the Germans made their trenches with corners because it reduced the impact of explosions. Mythbusters proved it was a valuable decision. Good thing, because I ALWAYS wondered . . .

After reviewing the paperwork (which covered things like: 1. Don't drive on Narcotics 2. Here are your NINE prescriptions 3. Here is the number you call in case of emergencies and 4. Here is what you had done to you, just in case), I decided to change my clothes into my going home outfit. First time I had worn clothes since I was finally cut out of my pants late last Thursday. It felt weird. Still another 30 or so minutes passed before it was officially official and I could go home. My nurse handed me my stuff and I was good to go. I asked for a wheelchair, and although I knew the answer, asked how long it would take. Color me silly, but I would have thought that discharge would have included and assumed ride to the front door, considering I had JUST BROKE MY PELVIS. Colored silly, clearly. I was told it could be 5 minutes, it could be 2 hours, so that is super helpful.

10 seconds later, a nurse aid who I had seen around appeared with a wheelchair. YAY! I was going home!!

I climbed into the chair, loaded my brother up with my two bags and my elephant Magnolia. Part way through the maze (which up until this point I have only viewed laying in a bed and looking at the ceiling) we realized I had left my pillow, so my brother went back for it. The nurse aid took me to the main entrance, which I had never seen before (I prefer to go in via the ambulance entrance) and it was so interesting to people watch while we waited for my brother.

It was finally time. I had to get into my brothers truck. I backed up to the door, grabbed the Oh Shit handle and while they lifted my legs, I lifted my arms. It took two tries, but I did it. Thank goodness I had only been out for a few days, and prior did a lot of upper body workouts! I slid all the way back with my back against the opposite door. I was in. I stuffed Magnolia behind my back, my pillow under my legs, and buckled my seat belt. My brother called my mom, who was meeting us at my condo to witness the impending climb.

We were off onto the horrible roads of Seattle. James Street has to be the worst street in Seattle possible to be on with a broken bone. I had ridden into Harborview on it, and was riding out on it. I would support a tax increase to fix just James Street. Overall, the car ride was very uneventful, I just had to pay a lot of attention because the shift your body experiences as the car accelerates and decelerates was uncomfortable. Pretty much shift is uncomfortable.

As we pulled in, my brother backed his truck up to the building. My neighbor Larry (the "neighborhood" gossip) was coming out and I told him what happened. My complex is SUPER crazy about reserved parking, even though it is poorly labeled. I warned him about lots of impending visitors since I wasn't leaving ANY TIME SOON. I knew that he would help spread the word. While I chatted, my brother got out his tools and tighten the railing of the staircase. I swear, when we were kids he would have loosened the railing, and today, he was making sure every step was safe. I have the best brother.

I walkered over to the staircase  This is what I had been "training" for. 3 flights of stairs. A little over a week ago, I did the Big Climb, which was 69 flights and I was now slightly intimidated by stairs I did every day, multiple times per day. It was different this time. Just different. Due to the nature of how I had to get up the stairs, this adventure was titled the BIG BOOTY CLIMB. One step at a time. . . Sit. Lift left leg with my hands, while holding the hand rail. Lift using arms like a dip to next stair, while my brother held my right leg in the air. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Until the top of one flight. Stand using rail and brother. Use walker to make turn around the railing. Sit. Repeat. Repeat. You get the idea.

I think the whole process took between five and ten minutes. And I was up. I got to the top, just as my mom arrived. When we were at the bottom, my brother had asked if we should wait for our mom. I said no, because I had to use the bathroom, and I wasn't sure how long it would take. Luckily, it was pretty quick!

I was home. I was home. I was home.

First stop. Bathroom. Next stop. Bed. The rest of the day was just getting oriented. What needed to go where? Did I need to be able to reach that? How do I sit up? What needs to be moved so I can get through? What medicines do I take when? And can I wash my hair (or have my hair washed) in the sink?

Last stop. Sleep. With Richie.