Keeping your head held high...

Life is a stage,
So learn to play your part,
Keep your head held high,
And learn to bear its sorrows.
                           Palladius

Through the years I worked on many Theatre stages, from large famous ones to very small ones.  That Theatre has been such a wonderful constant in my life, is symbolic in a sense.  For you see, I have often found myself being an inspiration to others, quite unaware I was, upon the challenging stage my journey is on.

Twice I was told I wouldn't be able to walk again.  Twice, I didn't listen.  Earlier, I shared with you the second time this happened.

The first time I was only nineteen.

Ten hours into the surgery my neurosurgeons and orthopaedic surgeons ran into complications, through no fault of theirs.  Seven hours later they were done.  The next day, in ICU they were anxious to see if I had any movement in my legs, and asked me to move them.  Nothing happened.

I had a horse.  I was in school, and worked.  My artwork was selling.  I had a life.  Obviously, I would have adjusted to being paralyzed, but I wasn't ready to give up hope yet.  I kept focusing on my legs, and wouldn't let go of what it was like to ride or dance.  Then I heard about a six mile marathon scheduled for July 4th...two months away.  I had this crazy idea to at least be able to do the last mile of it...walking.  On my own.

My surgeon kindly reminded me, "But you can't move your legs!"

"No shit," I said.  "But I'm going to!  Watch me."

The ward I was on did not have any other young people at the time.  The other patients were up in age, recovering from hip or knee surgeries.  And some WERE indeed watching ME.

Slowly...ever so slowly...my toes, feet, legs began getting movement.  I was pouring everything into them to make them move.  My doctors were astounded.

One day my surgeon suddenly took me down to Physical Therapy.  He positioned me at one end of the parallel bars so I could hold onto them.  He thought at best I would manage one or two steps.  I managed to go all the way to the other end, and return.  He couldn't believe it!  However, it wasn't as easy as it sounds.

For getting myself from one end of the parallel bars and back was very painful, exhausting, and tough.  But I did it!  Shuffling, but I did it!

Soon after, I progressed enough to be allowed to get in and out of bed on my own.

My Physical Therapist measured how many rounds of the 6th floor it would take to make a mile.  Four rounds made 1/4 of a mile, so 16 rounds were needed each day.

I was on it!

Finally the big day came.  I was still shuffling but could hold my own...on the 6th Floor, but could I on the outside?

My doctors, some nurses, and various other hospital staff were there too.

And someone else.

Mr. Rothschild, who had been on the ward across the hall from me, was recovering from a painful knee surgery.  He told my doctors and I later, he was very depressed after his surgery, and was terrified of the pain...to the point of giving up.

He heard me refusing to give up, then witnessed me struggling to do those 6th Floor rounds.  Mr. Rothschild thought if someone like me with so much wrong who was not giving up despite all my challenges, he certainly could too.

Together, we did that mile and were applauded.

You see, we just never know who is about to be inspired by the way we are playing our part and keeping our head held high on the tough stage of life.

Hold courage, my friends, and keep your head held high out there.😃