Expectations

From the moment it had been agreed I was going to rehab there had been expectations.  My expectations were that I’d get to a point where I could get home and get back to work.  This was what I was telling everyone.  This was what I was hoping for.  But there would be limitations to that and that wasn’t something I was sharing with many people. 

Others would have other expectations.  Early on the spinal consultant was telling me that I would have limited rehab.  That there was limited potential.  That when I was finally up and sitting I’d only be up for a few hours at a time that my skin wouldn’t cope with long periods of sitting. 

When I finally thought I’d gotten a bungalow sorted out and the Occupational Therapist was making her recommendations there’d been no real recommendations for adapting the kitchen.  When I queried this I was told that they didn’t think I’d be making my own food. 

I’d been told time and time again, even before I ever moved off the bed that I’d have at least four carers work with me at a time.  So much so that whilst still in bed the social worker arranged for a meeting with my care manager to ensure that she would be aware of the costs involved and have something in place once leaving hospital.

For nine months I had to live with the fact that this was what was expected.  That these were the experts.  These were the people who knew what they were talking about.  Who was I to question them? I just had to get used to the fact that this would be my new life. 

Thankfully, as time progressed and my rehab programme began I exceeded their expectations.  Thankfully, by the time my rehab programme had finished I could realistically get by with only one carer and with time would have if the Independent Living Fund hadn’t been frozen and then axed.