But with the transfer out of ICU to a rehab unit came new nightmares. Kate was still sufficiently paralyzed that she couldn't press the call button. "I was sure each night I would die in my sleep. I was a total prisoner. No matter what bad thing happened to me, I couldn't tell anyone."
But gradually, Kate recalls, she became a person again. The tubes and the IVs were removed. She learned to breathe. She learned to whisper, then--at the urging of the staff--learned to yell. "There was method in their madness," Kate says. "They were trying to strengthen my vocal chords." The strategy worked, and soon came the time when "they couldn't shut me up. It took a very long time, but I was no longer that quiet little thing."
She learned to swallow, so after weeks on an IV diet, she could eat and drink, working her way from liquid to solid food. The rehabilitation process was slow. Results, although they were satisfying to family and medical staff, were not nearly fast enough for Kate.
For those who haven't experienced it, "rehab" is not a very evocative word. It may call up images of walkers and canes and basket weaving--a lot of easy- does-it. For stroke survivors, it means a huge, basic, frustrating curriculum. The course on Eating, for example is marked by such sub-courses as Picking Up a Spoon; Putting the Food in Your Mouth Instead of Your Eye; Chewing; and Swallowing. The advanced course in Walking involves under grad classes in Picking Up the Left Foot; Putting the Left Foot Down; Picking Up the Right Foot..... The course on dressing includes such basics as Putting the Left Hand Into a Sleeve and the more advanced Tying Your Shoes.