Everything's going to be ok, I'm afraid...

This was something Judge would say to us referencing Erin Kathleen, reminding us that he would tell her that over the years. I was never really close to Erin, but now that we have spent more time and I know her better, I understand why that quite fits her, and I understand why he said it to me a lot too. It was his way of saying, settle down just a little....it will be ok...even though you're afraid. And worried. And stressed.

Well yesterday there was a magnet on my cubby outside my hospital door. It had Dorothy's red slippers on it. Meaning you were going home. When you arrive, there was a tornado and the yellow brick road. That was on there too. Physical therapy needed to re- evaluate me before I left. They did. I was told I was worse than I was before I came in. I am dragging my left foot and leg, the connection is not making it to my stupid damn leg. Back to the gait belt. Back to the commode vs. the toilet.

I. Am. So. Mad. Nothing to do but cry. Tears roll down my cheeks and my migrane just kills me. Vision is blurred with the tears and all I can think is why did this happen to me...and then I get mad at myself for feeling sorry for myself because there are people worse off than me!!! Crying and the physical therapist tells me to pick up my foot. I CANNOT! My good leg starts shaking. Now I sit. She tells me she thinks I need to stay a few more days. I tell her I will be fine. ( I cannot stand the god forsaken hospital one. More. Day.) she tells me I could benefit from the five days of intensive therapy still instead of just the three of outpatient. I tell her I will be fine.

Crying inside- fighting with my emotions because I just don't know why my leg and foot won't work. I just don't understand why the headaches won't stop so I can go back to work. Money doesn't grow on trees. I just worry. My IV is pulled. I am bruised. I am tired. I am worn. I am beat. I am lost in this unfamiliar world.

I have the best family and friends in the world, but still, can feel very alone. Stupid, I know, but that's what it is. I look at this picture I took at our cabin and I just try to remember Papa's gentle voice telling me, "Everything's going to be ok, I'm afraid."

I hope.