The Tutorial Level

Modern video games often start with tutorial levels—soft areas where mistakes don’t have the same severe consequences they will have later in the game, where you can learn the game’s basic mechanics and narrative without having to worry about pressing the right button at the right time to survive.

I’ve been in the Tutorial Level for the last four weeks, but now I’m finally ready to play the game. During my stay in rehab, I’ve learned how to transfer between seating surfaces (with and without transfer boards), manage my own bowel and bladder care (yuck but also necessary), sit up in bed, recover from a fall, wheel myself all over, direct others how to care for me (when absolutely necessary), and play Mahjong. With the help of a team of therapists I’ve built a particular set of skills, skills that make me far more independent than I thought possible when I came here in February.

I know I’m ready because today was… boring.

At 9:00 I wheeled myself to PT, saying hi to all of the nurses, technicians, and therapists as I cruised through the hallway. PT started, as it always does, with Reese’s calming presence. I transferred to the mat without a transfer board or any assistance. As usual we chatted happily through our favorite topics (our kids and Star Wars, not necessarily in that order) while she put me through any number of stress positions. A half-hour later Sean took over, showing me more techniques for lifting off the bed–techniques that used muscle groups that I just don’t have. And as usual I forgave him because he‘s just so damn earnest about the whole thing. Nevertheless I was able to get from a prone position to a seated one to one with my feet on the ground, and back into my chair.

At 11:00 I spent an hour with Wilton in OT. We went over the list of “durable medical equipment” I’ll need at home to make sure everything had been either delivered or at least ordered. Then, after putting me through some strenuous theraband exercises, we played another game of Mahjong. I still haven’t beaten him.

At noon, I had my ninth-to-last hospital meal, not that I’m counting.

At 2:30 was another round on the FES bike. I managed a respectable 4 watts, at the cost of significant redness under the electrodes on my quads and abs. I followed this up with some extra credit work—wheeling myself back to the inpatient gym to spend 30 self-directed minutes on the stationary hand bike, and managing to lay down an even more respectable 120 watts while keeping my heart in zone 2.

I spent the subsequent hour (okay two hours) researching hand bikes and I’m just putting it out into the universe that if someone wants to purchase a Maddiline Carbide I would be more than happy to ride it for you. And if you want to make Jeff happy, you could buy me a Maddiline Crosswind for trail riding.

Finally, the best and most surprising thing that happened today had nothing to do with my recovery. This afternoon I got an email from Finn, a former Reed student whom I have been mentoring for several years. They were writing to let me know they accepted a job offer from AECOM (one I had heavily lobbied for them to get). It was a nice reminder that regardless of my physical status, I’m still a professional of some repute who can help good folks get the leg up they deserve.

So in the end, nothing new, unpredictable, or (barring Finn’s email) particularly exciting happened in rehab today. This is great, and it’s been a long time coming. But I’m ready for more challenges, and I’m only going to get those by going home and living in the real world.