We bought tickets for a game between the Red Sox and Cardinals during the Christmas holiday period last year. Our son Mike and his wife, Amanda, were visiting at the time and together we wanted to get good seats for one of the games that would be taking place in May, so we bought them early. Section 149, behind home plate, row 4, not far from the field. Then the stroke happened in February and I lost mobility.
Once it became clear that I would survive with all of my faculties intact, the tickets we had purchased became a major concern. We paid a lot of money for good seats behind home plate, and we decided that we were still going to the game. I was still in a wheelchair at the time, but the game was three months away, and anything can happen in three months. So we set a goal that I would do whatever it took to get to the point where I could walk into Busch stadium, get to our seats, watch the entire game and walk out.
Training to be able to get to that game became a primary focus of my physical therapy for three months. Almost everything we did for physical therapy was designed to get ready for the game. In addition to the outpatient physical therapy at the hospital, Laura found ways to first get me on my feet, and then to take steps, more than what I was doing with the physical therapist, who started me off walking with the parallel bars. As I progressed, as I moved from one device to another (from the stand assist machine to the wheelchair to the platform walker to the hemi-walker and finally to a quad cane) Laura would donate the device I graduated from to the local VFW, which keeps a roomful of such devices in storage for use by disabled vets who need them. So there was no turning back as I progressed from device to device. She even had the ramp disassembled once I was in the hemi walker and donated it through the VFW to a veteran who needed it.
Removing the ramp forced me to learn how to navigate stair steps. There are two steps down from our kitchen to our garage, and we exit our home through the garage. With much coaxing and “encouragement” from Laura, I learned to grab the back edge of the door near the hinges with my good hand on the right (there is no railing), stiffen the left leg, and step down with the right foot. I then lift/drag the left leg down to the step my right foot is on, and repeat the process to get both feet to the garage floor. I am able to balance myself on my two feet, so at that point I shift my right hand from the door to a second walker or cane that we keep in the garage near the door. I reverse the process to get back up the steps and into the kitchen.
So removal of the ramp was purposeful. It forced me to learn to navigate stairs if necessary, which I can do, as long as I have something stable to hold onto with my right hand. We have since been entering church each Sunday by the side door, which has three steps and a rail, instead of walking around to the front which has a ramp.
The distance from the drop off point at Bush stadium to our seats was going to be considerable, so I needed to work on distance. Laura would convince me to get in the car, and she would take me to our local park where I could be outside and walk long distances on a paved path. When I say long, I mean a distance between 1/4 and 3/8 of a mile, which is a long way in a walker or with a cane, given that the left leg is still basically numb and weak. It’s a painful process, which people could see in my face as they walked by. Many times people would stop and ask if I needed help, and I had to tell them no, that this was part of my therapy. It made Laura feel that they were judging her for “torturing” me, which was just the opposite of what was happening. She was not only doing everything right, but she was going above and beyond to make sure that I would recover as soon and as much as possible. I couldn’t have come nearly this far without her by my side, encouraging me. Whatever the amount of recovery I get, the amount of function I eventually regain, I owe to God and to Laura for listening to what God told her to do for me, and doing it.
So, the game on May 19th was far more than just a game. It was a tangible goal that provided a near term reason to work hard to recover the ability to walk.
Well, I did walk into Busch Stadium, but the stadium staff insisted that I get into a wheelchair that they brought to me. I’m sure they were concerned with liability. So when the Busch Stadium staff saw me walking slowly with the quad cane, in the crowd of people moving to and fro quickly to their seats, to the concession stand, and to the rest rooms, they quickly came over to me to help me get to our section. There were about 20 rows down to our seats from the entry to our section, which meant I would have had to navigate about 20 stair steps down, and back up again for every trip to the rest room. Our seats were also out in the full sun, and it was projected to be 90 plus degrees in the afternoon (our car thermostat actually registered 100 degrees as the outside temperature most of the way home after the game). So the staff, noting my condition changed our assigned seats to the back row of the neighboring section, which only required me to navigate three steps up to the seats from the entry to the section. Those seats were also padded and in the shade. They were 20 rows back, but we still had a great view of home plate, and a better view of the field as a whole.
So we got to the game, we got to our (new) seats, and we saw a Red Sox victory. 11 – 3. A great day for Red Sox fans.
