CRH - Friday, Oct 13, 2018

Today I left Marion Medical Hospital in Santa Maria, California for transfer to the rehab center at the Cottage Rehabilitation Hospital Santa Barbara, California. Yet another trip in an ambulance, the second one in less than a week. A dubious distinction but dictated by circumstances beyond my immediate control as evidence below suggest …
It’s had been six long days and nights but there would be no walking away from this one. I felt helpless and anxious but wasn’t the one in charge of myself anymore. Dependency was a new feeling to me and it felt alien to me and yes it was to become an essential part of my new life that I would come to reluctantly going to have to accept.

All of our life we are taught how to be independent and do things ourselves. Motorcycle riders are more independent than most as we often pride ourselves on our independence. I felt there was nothing I couldn't take care myself when on the open road often by myself but I was wrong. Atlas, this wasn't a break down on the road … this was about my life, not as a motorcyclist, but as a real human being. This was my life coming to a full speed stop. I had to prepare myself and I had to do it right now … there was no prep that could prepare me for what was to come. I had to find my own way and the first thing was to accept what happen and move forward as best I could. This wasn't easy and like nothing I ever faced. Truly the challenge ahead crystalized in my thoughts in the 2nd ambulance ride as they took me to Santa Barbara.

I was in the ambulance in the back alone for the two hour ride mulling these thoughts over and over. I was alive and that was the important thing but I still had bad thoughts about dying and they always lingered. I tried to focus on where I was going and what it would be like. I was familiar with a nursing home and rehab facility. My sister spent time in one before she died and I visited one at home in Dover, TN where I lived. I would visit elderly church members there a couple times a month. They were not happy places. I prayed every time I left there in hopes those inside could somehow be restored to health all the time realizing most we're there to die. God have mercy I cried out may I never end up in such a place. Little did I know.

Cottage Rehabilitation Hospital Santa Barbara, California was more of a rehab facility and I was going to get rehab although many time the lines are blurred. My only thought going in was "How soon can I get outta here".
Looked nice enough …. but again I was thinking "Get me outta here" but this was to be my home … at least my foreseeable future.

Soon I was transitioned to my wheelchair — a horrible substitute for my majestic Goldwing. I thought to myself how far had I fallen from those days of only two months ago, in August, riding the Wing through Guanella Pass outside Georgetown in the Colorado Rockies now hostage to a wheelchair at a rehab facility. I sucked it all in! .. it was life after-all . It was my life. It really hurt so much I can't describe! It shook me hard.

I went back to that day by reading my journal …. Here a picture from that day.
I was in my world.

Entry worth reading if you haven't.

Aug 19-20' 2018

Now I'm locked away here in a very different world.

Smaller one.

Finally it's time to try a get some rest. Tomorrow I will wake up to a new reality!

My days at rehab….. begin