Everything I do is rehab. Every walk I take, everything I learn, every time I follow a recipe, every weight I lift, every time I organize my calendar, everything I do on my computer—it’s all rehab. And that’s a good thing.

I’ve recovered pretty well from all that’s happened in the last two years and I’m still recovering from my concussion/brain injury in 2016. I’ll never be my old self, but wishing for that doesn’t help me. It’s nostalgia, wishing for a past that is over and can never be again. 

What I can do is my best. What I can do is be joyfully in the world the way my body and brain will allow. I’ve worked really hard and one reason I’ve been successful is that a long time ago, I decided everything is rehab. Rehab isn’t something I do on top of a normal day—it IS a normal day. It’s a perspective that orients me towards success. A walk is SO good for me. Any walk. A social visit with a walk? It’s gold. A long walk? Amazing. A slow walk? Always. And that’s ok. I look back and remember when I needed a walker. I’ve come a long way. 

What I know for sure is that if you want to keep moving, you have to keep moving. I wish that sounded more profound. 

At the beginning of my brain injury, I struggled with what is called “executive function,” that is thinking through steps, following a pattern, keeping things in order. For example, I couldn’t follow a recipe and was so frustrated. Then I started thinking of cooking as rehab and my whole perspective shifted. It wasn’t something I couldn’t do anymore. It was something I was learning to do again. Sure, there were plenty of bad bakes and not-quite-right meals, but I didn’t take those to heart anymore. I didn’t feel like a failure. Every attempt was a success because I tried.

Knitting and any other hand crafts are a good way for me to learn to concentrate again. Everyone finds their thing.

A key moment was when I stopped berating myself because I couldn’t read well anymore and stopped feeling ashamed of it. To not be able to read was so embarrassing. When I got over it, I was able to try with curiosity instead of dread. I took it one word, one sentence, one paragraph and eventually one page at a time until finally, now, ten years later, I can read a book again. One book at a time.

There’s nothing I can do about my memory though! It’s a struggle for me and everyone I interact with. I forget stuff. Appointments. What you told me five minutes ago. 

I’ve got a list of things to do this week. Keeping a list is vital for me. There are 37 things on it. 37! And I’ve done 26! It’s only Wednesday morning. This was unimaginable to me at several points in the last few years. And writing a blog post wasn’t even on the list!

I’m on the brink of another surgery. Or procedure. What is the difference? Maybe it’s whether or not there will be an incision and a general anaesthetic. I’ll be under a general anaesthetic, but there’s not supposed to be any incisions, so let’s say it’s a big procedure. I’m scared. Again. But I will get through it. And I’ll be rehabbing starting the minute I wake up, from the first step I take to my first walk in the outside world to the next meal I cook, to the next friend I see. I look forward to all of it. It’s all rehab and it’s all life.