When people hear the word
"rehab" my guess is they think mostly of either short term physical
therapy (like after something like knee surgery), or drug rehab. There are actually lots of varieties of
rehab. Whether a person lives at a rehab
facility, or not, rehab applies to anyone who needs to regain some degree of
function in some way. The dictionary
definition of rehab says, among other things, "(to be restored to) a
condition of good health." I know
that stroke survivors often have to do rehab.
Rehab therapy of some kind is also really common for people with various
disorders that affect their balance (I don't want to say "vestibular"
since balance is about more than your vestibular system).
I haven't asked anyone,
but if I had to guess, I'd say that most patients think that when they do
rehab, they'll "get better." So
what does "get better" really mean?
My own perception of rehab continues to evolve. The issue with rehab is that, in reality,
"better" means improved. Going
back to the definition, I DO think you can be "restored to good
health," BUT you may not be (often I think are not) exactly the way you
were before you needed rehab. A good
therapist (which I'm very thankful I have - two actually) will have ongoing
discussions, in fact will encourage discussions with you to help you understand
the process. Hopefully you can talk with
whoever you're working with about goals, about what will happen if you start to
plateau, etc.
I'm not going to go into detail
about what I do, but I do two kinds of rehab therapy. One is Feldenkrais (named after the man who
invented it) therapy, which focuses on balance, movement and body
awareness. The woman I work with, Joyce,
is an occupational therapist. The other
is vision therapy, which focuses on various aspects of vision, including
Vestibulo Ocular Reflex (VOR). My vision
therapist, Ann, (supervised by a developmental optometrist) incorporates some
of what's done in Vestibular Rehab Therapy (VRT), but has much more knowledge
of how vision works, and how vision impacts balance. I talk with Ann and Joyce about exercises (each
one no more than a minute or two) I do on my own, specifically tailored to me, that
get integrated along with what I do in my sessions.
I've thought a lot about
what goes into doing rehab, besides who you work with and what you actually
DO. There's a lot that comes to mind:
Hard work, effort, optimism,
attitude, perspective, choice, patience, progress, persistence, and hope. Someone else might come up with some other
ingredients as well.
Rehab is a big part of my
life, extending beyond the two different therapies I go to on a weekly
basis. When I look at all these words,
the one that I keep coming back to is "choice."
What conscious choices do
you make when you do rehab?
Are hope and optimism
choices?
For the first question, to
me the main choice is to keep on pushing through and DOING rehab. "Rehab is fun" - said no one,
ever. Rehab is NOT fun. You can have a laugh with your therapist;
I've told both my therapists that I like them.
And it helps to like the people you work with, in fact I think it's
essential. But it still doesn't make
rehab fun.
About the second question:
I feel like you absolutely have to make a conscious choice - continually - to
be optimistic and hopeful. I think that
some people are by nature more optimistic than others, which to me means that
some people have to work harder at being optimistic than others. Sometimes being optimistic is very
difficult. I wrote recently about what I
miss out on, and how hard things are at times.
The afternoon that I missed a party, I said to myself "you can't
spend your afternoon thinking about this, you'll just bring yourself down." When I'm missing out on something, I try to
do bits of things I enjoy, and I try not to do things I really don't enjoy
(like chores). When it's not a question
of missing out on something, but rather that I'm having a tough day for
whatever reason, I feel like literally keeping moving, keeping on doing stuff -
even really basic stuff like laundry - is important. Making myself think about things that don't
have to do with me also helps me.
Music has always been
really important to me. I realize that
not everyone can play an instrument, but anyone can listen to music. I recently saw a post about songs about
needing help, that people with chronic conditions identified with, and I just
couldn't relate to that at all. I always listen to encouraging music, music
that lifts me up. Some examples for me
are Phil Collins "You'll be in My Heart," "Go the
Distance," sung by Lucas Grabeel, and "Don't Give Up" by Josh
Groban. I also love Jason Mraz - he's so
upbeat; I love his sound and his lyrics are like poetry. Keith Urban is another singer who seems to
be a really good person, and I can always find something of his to lift my
mood.
Of course, making the
choice to be hopeful and optimistic is incredibly hard if you're still looking
for answers. If you're floating around
in the land of "I have no idea what's going on, or what to do" it's very
hard work to be optimistic. You have to have reasons to be optimistic, and the
times when you're telling yourself not to give up are exactly the times when
it's the most important to be hopeful. If
you don't have answers yet, the first reason to be hopeful and not give up is
that you're worth it. The second reason is
that once you DO have the right treatment plan for your problem, you have to
get to work. Once you have a gameplan, and you're working
with people you trust (doctors, PTs, OTs, etc.) that's when I think it's time
to choose to be optimistic and hopeful.
Sometimes making these choices is really really hard. I definitely lose sight, lose my hold on hope
and optimism at times. But then I think
about the progress I've made, and make the decision, the choice to be hopeful
and optimistic.
