Miguel Ruiz Limardo - Lightning Strikes Twice: A True Story of Tenacity, Hope, and Perseverance

Chapter Five

I arrived at my new temporary home and my first impression was very positive. Most of the staff smiled and greeted us. The director met with us and seemed to know more about me than my own mother did. Apparently, they had taken it upon themselves to find out as much information about me as they could.

Then there was the nurse supervisor, who happened to be a friend of my mothers. They went to nursing school together. She told my mom that if I needed anything or had problems, I had to let her know and she would take care of it.

I was already noticing the difference between the old place and my new home. It was like night and day. There was no comparison to that other stinking place, where I wasted six precious months.

It was almost suppertime. My parents left after they brought me my tray. Wow, even the food is different, I thought when they opened my tray in front of me: rice, chicken, vegetables, and dessert. The nurse came right away. She had a nice and soothing smile. Come on, hon, she said. We dont want it to get cold. With all her patience, she started feeding me.

My room was big. It had five patients. It was very bright with big windows and nice, clean curtains. In the rat hole where I was before, the room was not open. It had nasty, smelly curtains and no windows. This one was open, and we all could see the nurses station. It was so close, there was no need to raise my voice if I wanted to talk to the nurse. In fact, I felt like I was never alone. If I got bored, the nurse was always there to make jokes and cheer me up.

Dr. Rafael Martinez was a physiatrist who worked at the Veterans Administration Hospital and specialized in spinal cord injuries. He came by every Thursday to do his rounds. This guy was the best at what he did. I had met him some months before when he came to my house on a weekend to do an evaluation of my condition. My parents had some connections and were able to bring him home during one of my weekend passes. He saw me free of charge. When he saw me at my new rehab place, he told all the nurses, I think I know this gentleman. I was surprised since it had been about seven months since he had been to my house. But he recognized me. He was very happy to see me because he knew this facility was a lot better than the other one, and he could treat me here. He did not waste any time. He ordered a strict, full-time physical and occupational therapy regimen.

All of my roommates seemed to be friendly. Pedro, the guy in front of my bed, was about my age. We had many things in common. He was also a C5-C6 incomplete. Our accidents were similar. He broke his neck surfing, while I broke mine diving into shallow water. We were both at the beach. We joked about our stupidity, about what went wrong, and about how we could have done it better. We teased and joked about which one of us was most crippled. When I had bad days and felt down, he always cheered me up. When he was down, I did the same for him. Pedros parents were divorced. The only people who visited him were his mother and some friends every now and then. My parents would frequently talk to his mother and share their experiences. I guess that helped them cope with our situations. It was sort of like a support group. I met Pedros friends and he met mine. Every time we had visit it was like a family get-together. He shared food, cookies, and any other goodies that he received with me and I did the same with him. We were like brothers.

Right next to Pedro was another Pedro. He was old, in his mid-eighties, and he had a fantastic sense of humor. One day, his wife came to see him. Oh man, you should have seen this. This babe was like twenty-eight with a one-year-old baby. We found out that this was Pedros baby. Can you imagine that? Back then, there was no Viagra or Cialis. We always joked with old Pedro, Hey Pedro, are you rich? Cmon, man give us the secret. Do you have a secret weapon there under your pants? Old Pedro would always laugh his tail off.

I have never met a person with spinal cord injury who didnt have good sense of humor. It was like a requirement to be in that room with us. Every time there was an open bed we warned the supervisor to bring a new person with a sense of humor. There was this big police guy, he was like six-foot-seven and went by his last name of Soto. One night, he was calling the nurse to ask for the urinal. He kept screaming for help, but nobody heard him. Since he woke us up we started joking.

Hey Soto, why dont you turn sideways and stick your dick through the bed rail and pee on the floor, Pedro said.

Well, hell yeah. Im thinking about it if they dont come soon, Soto said.

We kept bugging him. Oh, come on, man. If it was me I would have done it already, I said.

Do it! Do it! Do it! we were all chanting. All of a sudden, we heard the sound of him peeing on the floor. We were laughing our lungs out so hard that they finally heard and came in. By then it was already too late so the nurse had to mop the floor, and we were still laughing.

Then there was Rene (T1 T2), the guy next to my bed. He was working construction when the floor under him gave way and he fell fifty feet. His story was really a miracle. Just three years older than me, Rene was a cool guy who enjoyed making fun of his disability, the same as Pedro and I. They used to call us the three amigos because we were always together. We would have burned the house down if theyd let us. I remember my dad had bought me a power chair so I could feel more independent and the three of us would go all around the hospital, especially to the womens ward. We also escaped to the other hospital next to ours to watch the nurses.

The environment at my new home was much better. The staff was cool and always tried to make us laugh. I had days when I felt like garbage and didnt want to talk, but I guess that was part of the process of growing and adjusting to my new life. Everyone understood. Nancy did not come often because of her schedule, but she called or dropped by when she was in town. Nilda never stopped coming.

This facility was very strong in therapy. I was going to therapy twice a day in the mornings and afternoons. Dinorah was in charge of physical therapy. She worked with me in the mornings. This consisted of electrical stimulation, ultrasound, weight lifting, stretching my legs and arms, and standing me up on a tilt board. Lucy was in charge of my occupational therapy. She worked with me in the afternoons. With her, I learned how to transfer from my bed to my chair and to the bathroom. I learned how to do other things that are part of daily living, such as eating, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed. They were on a serious mission to help with my rehabilitation, and I was noticing the changes. I would sit in my wheelchair for the entire day. The bed had become a thing of the past.

I dont know what is it about therapists and nurses, but I have a lot of respect for them, especially therapists, since I was spending so much time with them, sometimes more than normal. Both Dinorah and Lucy were maybe two or three years older than I was. We had conversations about everything, including our personal lives. At some point, Lucy and I got so involved with each other that she stayed late to spent time and talk with me or wind down her day. She took a special interest in me, and we liked each other. Both Dinorah and Lucy were a big part of my emotional and physical rehabilitation. I dont think I would have made it if it werent for their tenacity and persistence.

Eight months had passed, and I was doing a lot better. I could feed myself, my arms were strong, and I left the power chair parked, choosing instead to push my own chair. I still needed some help transferring, getting dressed, and bathing, but once I was sitting on my chair I could pretty much be on my own. They were already talking about discharging me and that made me sad. I knew that going back home meant being alone. My grandpa lived on the second floor of our home but he was very old and ninety-percent blind, so how was he going to help me. I decided not to let my fears overtake me.