Re-entry

B is a fighter. Wheelchair, gone. Walker, gone. And this weekend, she came home.

So far the transition back to "normal" life has been relatively smooth. The stairs haven't posed too much of a problem—nor the overzealous love of our Tigger-like black lab. And we are all overjoyed simply to have her back in the house.

Recovery is far from complete, though. We have weeks and weeks of outpatient therapy to get through (several different kinds in several different places)—and to juggle logistically. A mere glimpse at all the things we're supposed to fit into our weekly schedules now can make me want to curl up and hide. And, of course, we're waiting for all the unforeseen challenges that are sure to pop up. As well as all the sudden urgent reminders of all the forgotten and overlooked things that have slipped by us in the past few months. As anyone who has seen Gravity can tell you, re-entry can be rough.

Don't get me wrong, though: We are happy. We are more than happy to have moved past the hospital stage. And the B-can't-move-her-limbs stage. And the constant pain stage. So we're on to the next stage of recovery. All of us. Wish us a smooth landing.

Flat Feet

The sleepless nights, the trafficky drives down the turnpike, the logistical nightmares, the endless pep talks, the headaches, body aches, general anxiety, and all the other frustrating, energy-sapping, mind-numbing stuff we've had to deal with over the past few months—I can forget about all of them for a few seconds when I see both of B's feet flat on the ground.

They come back to mind, of course. Pretty quickly, too. But now I can just picture those feet on the floor, at lovely 90-degree angles, and get a wonderful reminder of what this is all for. And of how much I love my daughter.