It’s good to try. Sometimes it’s good to try hard. Sometimes, though, I try too hard, and for no good reason.

I remember lying in my hospital bed in the ICU, struggling hard to explain MLK Day to Dr. Chen three nights after my surgery (after asking me for the day, he asked me who MLK was). “Marching,” I kept saying, “Movement. Black. Rights. You know, marching.” I visualized black-and-white images of crowds at the Mall in Washington D.C.; I imagined segregated restaurants and a man pounding on a podium. But I couldn’t describe what I knew and saw in my mind’s eye. I aimed and aimed, but couldn’t hit my target. Dr. Chen put his hand up and smiled, then left. I looked at the blurry clock and blinked. I felt embarrassed that I couldn’t answer his question properly. Only until last week did I realize he really wasn’t quizzing about MLK. Really, asking me to tell him about this famous man was really a “is she lucid?” kind of question. Of course.

I still remember his sweater. And feeling stupid.

Anyway, the rest of the time it’s good to try, even hard.

I’ve been trying hard at TIRR-Challenge, but because of my limited schedule (and theirs), it’s been difficult to really immerse myself in the program. I feel like I’m missing out. My case manager suggested that by missing afternoon sessions, I’m going to miss everything vocational (I’d like to work on my speaking and writing) or good OT-oriented (which, incidentally, is only once/week, twice if I’m lucky).

I didn’t know this.  First, I walked in thinking I would be all fixed up in two weeks. (Two weeks is actually the amount of time they spend evaluating each patient.) When I finally registered, I was told I may be there four months. I hadn’t planned on being there that long. Am I really going to be that hard to fix? What about childcare? I hadn’t hired anyone for that period of that time (after all, I was going to be cured in weeks!).  Then, two weeks later, my case manager explained they have no idea how long I’ll be there, but to received the best and most thorough treatment I should be able to attend TIRR those days I’m assigned, and not the days I’m available (which are contingent on finding a babysitter, which I didn’t find on a semi-permanent basis because I thought I was going to be cured in two weeks!). C&D miss me and start clinging and whining as soon as I get home. The house feels zooey because under the babysitter they generate more miss than can be ever picked up. A broken head, and then the attempt to fix a broken head isn’t all that much easier.  I feel like this is going to drive us all crazy.

Edited and completed Dec 2007; feeling not quite as crazy.