Wednesday, March 26, 2014

OT : Occupational Training (aka olympic training)

Everyday I am stuck in the rehabilitation hospital. Going for PT (physio therapy) and OT (occupational therapy) and all the in between events became like a schedule.

0730H Wake up
0800H Medicine time
0830H Walk along corridor (~50m)
0945H Wheel to OT
1200H Lunch
1345H Medicine + Wheel to PT
1600H Rest
1700H Dinner
1800H Medicine
1900H Snack
2000H Medicine
2200H Medicine + Sleep

Life in rehab center was pretty full on. Seems simple but it sure wasn’t, especially when I push myself to my limit during every OT and PT. There are days when I pushed myself so hard for OT that I couldn’t make it to PT and there were also days when I pushed myself so hard for PT and I couldn’t wake up for OT. In addition, medications have multiple side effects, which meant that there were “up days” and there were “down days”. When down days came, even moving to the toilet is a tough job.

Prior to my accidents, I could not distinguish the difference between OT and PT (im sorry to all my health professional friends). Now, I know the differences well. I know they are both needed and they are both very important in having a full rehab.
The OT does all the functional therapy. I learnt how to use my fingers, wrist, shoulders in OT. The OT taught me simple functional tasks. When I first regained movement of my right fingers, my OT gave me a huge challenge.

OT: Nice polo shirt you have there Zac
Me: Yeah. My mate gave this to me.
OT: Nice! So, who did the buttons for you?
Me: My girlfriend did *smile*
OT: Oh no! That’s no good isn’t it? You have to dress yourself.

Eh? I am a spinal patient and I have just moved my fingers 2 days ago. Are you freaking kidding me?

OT: Come on. Do it yourself. Let me get you something.

So my OT went to get his props for this activity. The buttons on the shirt was made of varying sizes. The biggest button would be perfect on a clown and the smallest button would be the size of the button on my polo.

OT: Go on. Try it.

Me being me, started with the smallest button. (so damn typical of me.)
Failed.
Ok. Next bigger button.
Failed.
Next button.
Failed.
Fail
Fail
Fail
Ok. Biggest button now.
Fail.
****
Seriously? =(

OT: Its ok. Let me teach you. First, you try to place your finger in this position. Then you try to aim for the slit, push it through with your thumb and …
WHY AM I LEARNING HOW TO BUTTON MYSELF AFTER 27 YEARS?!?!
I was instantly depressed and I guess my face shows it all. So everyone left me for a while. I sat there alone, looking at buttons. This seems to be the hardest task I have done in my life. WTF magic is this?! These are just buttons. This is seriously not hard. But its so hard. F…
I took a while to sink in my self-pity and denial and I do what I do best. PICK MYSELF UP.

Ok. This used to be easy but you know what? I am no longer the same.
I have to embrace my new body. I have do everything right. Get the fundamental right.
Be patient. I am having my second childhood now. Remember. I am a baby.
Ok. Lets go.
I will master this button thingy today and get it out of the way. Tomorrow will be a better day. One step at a time, I can make things happen. Just got to do it. Lets kill the buttons today. LETS GO!

So I practiced buttoning on the prop for 30 minutes before my fingers could no longer move.
OT: Zac, hows things going?
Me: Its alright. I think I am getting better at this. But my fingers are no longer moving..
OT: Oh it looks good! Good job. No worries. Your fingers are probably tired. You need to build up your fingers. Its just like weights training, like in the gym. We will continue tomorrow.
Buttoning is gym training now. Look how far I have degraded. (Even as I type this now, it sends chills down my spine, thinking back at all these is an absolute nightmare) Try again tomorrow eh? Alright. I will smash this sh*t tomorrow. I will have my secret training tonight and surprise you tomorrow. Hell yeah.
FYI, secret training didn’t happen. I was really too smashed from the morning’s OT. This is how important an OT is. No freaking point in being able to run if I cant feed / write/ button my clothes. Aint gonna be too “normal” isn’t it. This was how far out I am from where I was a couple of weeks ago. Saddening but true.

It is really weird to know that I have some walking (actually limping) ability while I have no fine motor skills. Super screwed up. I could limp but I didn’t have any dorsi flexion. Sucks. Ok, apologies on the technical terms. So bottom line is, I am no longer normal and I no longer function normally. Yes. No longer normal.

Life really aint that bad when one could walk or write or eat on their own or walk to the toilet on our own and to void normally. Sometimes, we just forget how blessed we are.




making one of the first few attempts of standing up. Who is that idiot that told me i wouldnt stand in the year? 



prepared and written by Zac Leow

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