If you want to see a bigger picture, just click!
My heart monitors.
Astrid and I actually did my hair while I was in the hospital.
This was the gadget that was hooked up to my heart monitors on my chest. My heart rate was monitored 24/7
I had Heparin shots every few hours. They are blood thinner shots in the belly given to bed ridden patients to avoid blood clots. You can't really tell in this picture, but I had a million bruises on my belly (still do) and it made my belly so swollen.
This was my walker. When I did use it, I needed assistance... usually one or two people on either side holding me up. I couldn't feel where my feet were hitting the floor.
In the emergency room, day 1.
This was my bed in rehab. Notice the red pillows. My red hair dye would always bleed onto the pillow cases. Also, had the room to myself!
Me in my wheelchair. After I had the rapid response, I was hooked up to a heart monitor. My heart monitor was hooked up to a small box, and my heart rate was on display on screens throughout the cardio unit.
First time I was outside in weeks.
I always wore my Eagles gear when they played :) 
My friend Rena, who I haven't seen in months came to visit all the way from Philly.
One of the quotes I would write daily on the morning board.
My mom got me the most beautiful flowers. My favorites: lilies and sunflowers!
Since I couldn't feel my legs, I always had them curled up. It was hard for me to lay in bed comfortably since the loss of sensation.
Since I had trouble swallowing, I was on strict eating rules. One pill at a time, supervised eating (I couldn't eat alone), thin liquids, and everything was chopped.
My speech therapist Shelly worked with me during my stay. I have problems with 'S', 'R', and 'P''s. I still have some issues with speaking; I slur.
This is Kristin. She was my CNA at Lourdes. I needed bathing stuff for my shower one night, so she brought in a whole bag full of fancy shampoos, soaps, a book to read, and nail polish. Ever since then, we've been BFF. Also, she looks like my twin and everyone thinks we are sisters.
I love this picture. My friend George took this picture of me after I walked my first 100 feet.
My first night in rehab.
My ankle kept turning while I walked. My therapist Katie (I miss you, Katie!) tried EVERYTHING to keep it straight. Well, this is called an air brace. It was one of the attempts until a AFO (ankle brace) was made for me.
Astrid took this picture of me to send a mass text to all of our friends. Pity party much?
This is me in my wheelchair. Just a shot of how the air cast held my ankle in place, because my foot/ankle flopped around like a dead fish without it.
This was the first time I was able to sit my legs up in bed!
Whenever my friends came to visit, we would play around... spin me in the wheelchair, have races, see how many of us can fit on a hospital bed (5), and just being silly.
This is my own wheelchair. It was built for me 5 years ago. All the dimensions were built to fit my size and frame.
Me + my dad. He never watched me during rehab, but came to visit once in awhile. He didn't like to see me like that. I love him to death, but I know he was always uncomfortable around me in the hospital.
I came into the hospital diagnosed with pneumonia. I'm pretty sure I got sick from a trip to Six Flags a few weeks before and didn't wear a jacket. I was sick for weeks, and it got worse, obviously to the point of pneumonia. I was on oxygen and taking breathing treatments for 2 weeks. I also was on IV antibiotics.
Astrid took this photo of me on my first day in the hospital. I was miserable, pissed I was in the hospital and sad about Monkey.
I had to use this overhead bar to adjust myself in bed. The core of my body was so weak, I couldn't sit up without leaning on something. It was as if I were a rag doll.
I had to fill out paperwork on who had medical control over my medical decisions and will. As of right now, my mother holds all rights to whatever happens to me if my condition worsens and I am unable to make decisions for myself.
I feel absolutely strong, happy + healthy. This past month has really changed me into a better person and I am grateful for it. I was on this whole "things happen for a reason" kick, but I have realized that they don't.
Things happen depending on you and you alone, not the cosmos. You control the beginning, the middle and the outcome. I was being lazy; I thought... if ___ happened for a reason, then I don't have to put much work into it. That wasn't the case. After everything that has happened the past few weeks, I've come to realize that I make things happen for a reason. Every single thing I do every day has a reason to it. I may meet someone, and it is up to me whether to make a reason out of him or her. It is all off our efforts and control on how we perceive the world and the people in it. I do, however, believe in experience. I believe all the hard work I've done learning to walk again has taught me that there is almost little to nothing I cannot do. I'm pretty much super woman. I've learned no matter how much I care about a friend, a boyfriend, or a stranger, they have taught me what I like and don't like (or want) about (or in) a person.
Friendships are work. Sometimes people change with age. Sometimes the friends we made 10 years ago are no longer the same people we know 10 years later. Sometimes these friendships are no longer compatible and at times, these friendships become distorted into jealousy, hate and revenge. Relationships are work. Imperfections are what makes someone perfect. But sometimes people expect too much. Others can't communicate. And a few are afraid of that work, yet soon forget with that work comes the reward of a great relationship. And me. Without some hard work, I would not be where I am today. It wasn't the cosmos, the universe or fate that got me here. I hustled hard. I based everything I knew on experience. Days, years from now, I will look back on people I've known, places I've been and things I have done and know which is right and which is wrong. Fate has no place in reality except in fairy tales. And bad romantic comedies.
Then, unfortunately there are the few who don't believe in work at all. Or once the work becomes too hard, they jump ship pretty damn quickly. They swim with the motions. I feel bad for them, only because nothing good comes from it. I've been there -- I've done that. I used to tell myself, "this was fate, this person came into my life for a reason. This thing has happened for a reason", but without that work, it became stagnant. It became my safety blanket because I was too scared of the future and too scared of the work that would have to come along with it.
Now, I know if I want something enough, if I love something enough, if I want something to happen enough, it will never keep me from working towards getting there.
I want a great job I enjoy going to every day, I want a good family unit, I want an awesome man who will be there for me when I need him most, and I want friends like Astrid: who came to the hospital to paint my toenails, do my hair and update everyone on my condition.
The people who came to visit me in the hospital were the people I LEAST expected to see and the people I really needed with me in the hospital were no where to be found.
The only thing I don't want is to be unhappy. And for the first time in a very, very long time, I feel like I have finally reached the point where I can smile without forcing it.
Thank you everyone for the support, the letters and the visits. I truly have great fantastic people in my life.
