I WANT TO DANCE -
Lightbearer (Roberta Victor)
 This
morning I glanced in the mirror for a moment. In that moment, my
reflection triggered the memory of a dream I had several years
ago, when I was in the hospital recovering from surgery after a
car accident. My neck was broken and I was paralyzed from the
neck down. Surgery accomplished mobility waist up, but I was a
27 year old single Mom. My son was 6 years old. When I realized
the surgery was only partially successful, I flat out told the
universe it best unfold the rest of my body, and be quick about
it, because I just did not have time for this.
Three or four days after my surgery, I dreamed about myself just
as I was right there in the hospital bed. This was one of those
observer dreams.
I am asleep in the hospital bed. I wake up and want to get up
and walk and once again realize that I have no feeling or
mobility in my legs. I reach for my watch and realize it is
about 3:00 AM. As the observer, I smile kindly at myself and
say, "In the dark night of the soul, it is always 3:00
AM." So, I straighten and puff up my pillows; adjust the
soft cloth between my chin and the neck brace I am wearing and
will wear for 6 months to come. I try to go back to sleep with
this contraption that encases me from chin to waist…
straighten the covers as best I can… trying to ignore my
frustration that I cannot get up and walk when I want to. I feel
the vice grip-like pressure of the hard metal brace I must
wear… one soft covered plate under my chin, the other one firm
against the nape of my neck… the connecting bars across my
back and chest… and the soft covered plates on my lower back
and just below my waist in front. Once more I focus on willing
feeling and mobility to my legs, for what seems like hours.
I look at my watch again. It is only 3:05 AM. Time seems
interminably slow… five minutes feels like an eternity. All of
the frustration that the surgery did not restore feeling and
mobility to my whole body begins to build up inside of me. I
feel like I am a volcano that will erupt virulently… any
moment now. I feel so very alone. There is no one in the room
with me and I do not want to bother the nurse just because I am
frustrated and weary.
The dark and the silence in my room fairly suffocate me. I gasp
for a breath… the brace around my neck feels like a garrote
strangling me. I reach for the control to the TV. Maybe if I
watch TV for a bit, it will distract me and help me get some
sleep. I struggle to do anything I can do with my upper body,
just to assure myself that I can. I methodically do all the
exercises the Dr. told me to do… several times. I slump back
on my pillows.
It is the first week of February and chilly outside, for
Florida… and I have worked up quite a sweat doing all the
exercises. My hands instinctively go to my head… I feel the
chopped, blunt few tufts of hair left from part of my scalp
being shaved and part of it just cut short. The first time I
looked into a mirror after my surgery, I remember weeping
inconsolably because my long chestnut brown hair was gone. No
matter that my neck was broken… that I could not walk, much
less dance. I was definitely having a 'bad hair day'. What
remains is a few tufts of short, very frizzy, carrot red (tinted
from the betadine shampoos I had to have 3 times each day when I
was in ICU. The betadine shampoos were to stop infection in the
scars healing from the impact of the accident and the sutures
from the surgery) hair.
I pull on the few tufts of hair that I can get my hands on… I
want so much to be myself again and not this freakazoid with
Emmet Kelly hair… and a robot looking brace around my neck and
torso. And I want to feel my legs and feet… and I want to walk
and I WANT TO DANCE. And I want to turn back time so the
accident never happened.
I WANT TO DANCE. I WANT TO DANCE. I WANT TO DANCE…
In my dream, I fall asleep murmuring, "I want to
walk!" over and over again. So, now I am having a dream
within a dream.
In my dream within a dream, an older, very kind and wise looking
woman appears to me at the foot of my hospital bed. In a voice
that is gently yet powerfully soothing, she suggests, "Call
the nurse to your room. When she gets here, tell her to move you
so your feet touch flat against the metal frame at the foot of
the bed. Tell her to arrange your covers so your feet are flush
against the metal with no barrier between your skin and the foot
of the bed. She will not want to do this. She will think it is
foolish. No matter. She will do it anyway. You will convince
her. Once in this position, begin to will yourself to feel the
metal against your feet. Do not waver from this for any long
period of time. Keep your mind totally focused on feeling the
metal with your feet. YOU WILL DANCE. Oh, yes. You will
DANCE." She smiled radiantly, a knowing look in her eyes…
a timeless and deep knowing look. She came around the side of
the bed and stood beside me. She reached down and stroked my
head with her soft, gentle hands. Her touch was so comforting
and healing. She stayed there, quietly, for a very long time,
stroking my head… her voice soothed me to sleep with soft
comforting sounds. Then, she bent down to kiss my forehead as I
drifted into a deep and restful sleep, feeling more than hearing
her voice as she repeated, "You will dance… you will
dance… you will dance… you will dance…………"
I woke up abruptly… I really had to go to the bathroom. Oh,
yeah. Now, I remember. I have a catheter. Then, I look at the
clock… 2:20 AM.
As I shake myself awake a bit, I remember my dream. I press the
call button for the nurse. It is 2:35 AM when she walks into my
room… it feels like the longest 15 minutes in my life. I ask
the nurse to move me just like the woman in the dream told me
to. The nurse looks at me with terrible pity. I know she wants
to say, "It will do no good." I can see it in her
eyes. She doesn't say that, though. She says, "Let me go
get another nurse to help me." Another wait… a very long
wait, this time. Three minutes pass before both nurses return to
my room.
The new nurse tries to talk me out of moving. I insist. This
goes on for another five minutes or so… and I feel very
frantic. I don't have time for this. I know I said and felt
"I don't have time for this" almost as often as I
breathed… my whole stay in the hospital. Finally, the first
nurse says to the new nurse, "What can it hurt. What does
she have to lose?" So, they pull down the covers and each
nurse takes hold of the draw sheet that is under me to help move
and lift me. They move me down. I can feel myself moving even
though I can't feel anything in my legs and feet. "OK,
Gal", one of the nurses says to me, "Your feet are
right up against the frame at the foot of the bed."
I thank them. Tears are streaming down my face as I dare to hope
this might just work. The woman in my dream appears in my mind
and says, "Don't you cry, now. You just do what I said and
YOU WILL DANCE. Yes, you will DANCE."
So, I begin.
I remember everything the woman in my dream said to me. I notice
that I feel her words more than hear them. I begin to focus on
feeling the metal frame at the foot of the bed on the bottom of
my feet.
As I am focusing, I remembered a question the Doctor asked me
right before my surgery. He asked, "What motivates you most
about this surgery being a complete success?" I replied
without having to think about it… "If I can't dance, I
don't want to live." I am not a professional dancer… I
just mean… dance… like, slow dance, fast dance, DANCE… I
must dance. I think about the angst I felt the 23 days before my
surgery… lying day after day, motionless in ICU… family and
friends could only visit once an hour for 5 minutes. And so, I
concentrate totally on the bottom of my feet. I imagine feeling
the metal against my feet. I feel like every ounce of energy I
have is pouring itself into the nerves on the bottom of my feet.
I know I can do this.
Three or four days pass. In the middle of the night, I wake up
and my feet feel like they are on fire! The pain was really
intense. I cry out in pain, then I realize… I CAN FEEL MY FEET
ON THE METAL AT THE FOOT OF THE BED! I CAN FEEL!!! My feet are
burning with the sensation of nerves waking up after a long (34
days) sleep. I call the nurse to my room. Speaking into the
intercom, I shout, "I can feel my feet." Within
seconds, I hear the thunder of footsteps in the hall. Two nurses
come in my room. I show them… I can wiggle my toes just the
tiniest bit. I can feel my legs as I run my hands up and down
them. Just as they came to my bed, I said, "I have to go to
the bathroom. Take this catheter out and help me walk." The
nurses both try to talk me out of this. No way. I am going to
walk to the bathroom now. So, they remove the catheter and help
me scoot to the edge of the bed and sit up. They both held me up
as I struggled to my feet.
As soon as my feet touched the floor, I expected to stand up
easily. Not quite. My legs folded under me like I was a rag
doll. I told the nurses to just help me down to the floor. I
would crawl to the bathroom before I would use a catheter again.
And so I did. I crawled to the bathroom and pulled myself up
onto the commode.
I was so thrilled with this accomplishment that I began laughing
with unbridled joy. I was barefoot. The floor was deliciously
cold. I could feel it. It didn't hurt any more. It just felt
cold. I crawled back to my bed. The nurses helped me back into
bed. I was triumphant and very tired. I went back to sleep.
In the morning, I began to do everything I could to strengthen
my legs. The Doctor came in to my room, rushing toward me…
with a glorious smile and sparkling eyes. "We did it!"
he said, "You and me and God! We did it!" I said,
"I had lots of help. You and God and a woman in a dream…
". I told him about my dream. He just looked at me in
amazement. From that day, it took about two weeks for me to walk
steadily enough to go home. I had not seen my son since the
night of the accident. I was going home. I was walking out of
the hospital. I would DANCE. Oh, yes. I WOULD DANCE.
So, this morning, when I saw my reflection in the mirror… what
triggered the memory of my dream was… I saw the woman in my
dream. The woman in my dream was ME… 23 years older than I was
at the time I saw her in my dream. Her radiant smile and knowing
look made sense to me now. She knew I would walk, she knew I
would DANCE. She knew I would have a lovely daughter two years
later. She knew I would look in the mirror this morning and know
that she was very intent on encouraging me to believe I could
walk, dance, play with my son and daughter, work, write, and
live my life.
Her very life depended on my determination.
I HOPE YOU DANCE……
Roberta L. Victor©
20 June 2001
Matoaca, VA., USA
http://www.lightbearerpres.com/ |
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