I fought back tears not knowing exactly how Dr D would respond. I knew he wouldn’t stop seeing me all together but I wasn’t sure if he’d cut my sessions down by half.
I let Dr D know that I’m unable to return in person to see him at his office because I’m physically unable to get inside his building. I’ve known for awhile but I didn’t say anything until I absolutely had to. He wasn’t expecting it. I explained that even if I could get up the stairs, going down is a whole different animal! I explained that walking is simply too painful and not something I am able to do any longer. There is excessive and relentless pain that doesn’t allow me to walk, which means I’m permanently and full time in the wheelchair. No stairs. No escalators. Just the chair. I’m ok with the chair but not with the fact that I won’t see de D in person again.
We agreed to still talk every Monday on the phone.
We talked about how friends took it harder than I did when they realized I’m not going to be able to walk due to the amputation not healing correctly. A CNA told me she could heal me by prayer (eye roll) but I’d have to want it. Do I want to walk? I do. Will I walk at any cost? No! I won’t. I’ve got a full pain plate already. Adding excruciating walking to that smorgasbord of pain is not gonna happen.
We talked about this new version of me, the one that finally accepted the wheelchair. Acceptance took 2 years. I told him that most of the time I don’t think about it. I just am. Other times I kind of get a glimpse of myself in the chair and I truly see me. For a second it pierces me to the core. I’m caught off guard as if somehow I forgot that I’m in a chair now. I quickly recover and go right on about my business. Admittedly, I do the same with dissociation. I dissociate all the time but sometimes I see a little more through the fog and it catches me off guard. I instinctively go back to the fog.
This new chapter in therapy will be interesting. I won’t be able to show him artwork anymore. That was very much a part of the therapy.
Dr D asked how I feel about our Monday phone appointments. I said I depend on them. I do. I’m happy I get to keep them and I’m happy Dr D has stuck out the many changes of my treatment. This is the therapist that called me every Monday the entire time I was in the hospital and in the nursing home. He is what I would call dedicated.