Rehabilitation classes are finally over! It's been almost half a year since I rolled down from the top of Europe, occupying a third of my entire study abroad experience. Let's take a look back.
It all started with a skiing trip to Switzerland, where two scoundrels tricked me into thinking it was an easy slope. One of them went down in 10 minutes on a snowboard, and the other didn't even ski, just slid down on their butt!
I nervously went down, the first few slopes were fine, smoothly passing through them boosted my confidence. But then, halfway down the next steep slope, I rolled down, my snowboard flew off, and when I got up, my knee didn't feel right. I looked at the rescue helicopter and thought about my bank account balance, so I decided to keep skiing. I stumbled down, and a few kind-hearted people came over to check on me and offered to call for help. One of them even tried to teach me the "zigzag brake" (Swiss people are really nice, unlike the Spanish who stole our phones). We discussed going up to the cable car station, but they stopped us, saying that the blizzard was getting worse and we would freeze to death halfway. In the end, they chose the most skilled person to carry us down the mountain on their back. Honestly, it was so much fun drifting on his back, I wanted to do it again.
We delayed for so long on the mountain that our worried friend who had been waiting for us at the bottom was terrified. They breathed a sigh of relief when they saw us. We went straight to the pharmacy, and the doctor said my bones were fine and prescribed some ointment. I endured the pain and took a nap, then we went to Paris, planning to continue our Christmas journey. But the pain worsened, and on New Year's Eve, the three of us rushed to the emergency room.
The doctor at the emergency room was a kind and beautiful lady, she gave me a lot of things for free. After examining me, she suggested that I go back to the UK for an MRI scan, as the waiting time in Paris was two weeks later and she was afraid it would delay my recovery. If she knew that I would only have the scan done three months later, would she try to keep me there... So we canceled the rest of our itinerary (sob, sob, my Iceland) and rushed back to Glasgow overnight.
We even enjoyed the disabled services at the airport.
After arriving in Glasgow, Nanzhi accompanied me to the emergency room, and after the examination, we successfully scheduled an MRI scan for a week later.
Of course, due to the Royal Mail strike, I didn't have the scan until March. During this period, there were countless appointments and endless visits to the hospital.
Studying with an injury.
Nanzhi, Zhenzi, and Yuzi took turns taking care of me.
During the three months at home, I finished watching "Furious," completed "Uncharted," and started visiting friends once I felt better.
Experiencing human care.
The day of the examination was quite emotional. I had spent three years in Shanghai before, and I never thought I would meet MR again in this way. After the MRI results came out, the physiotherapist took over from the doctor, and he would be in charge of my life for the next six months. On the first day we met, he told me to throw away my crutches, hahaha.
Rehabilitation started with learning to go up and down stairs, it was so difficult, and I would shed a layer of skin after each session.
I went to the hospital gym once a week, guided and supervised by the physiotherapist, it felt like having a personal trainer, quite enjoyable.
Every week, we would chat about family matters.
During gatherings, we would train according to his requirements.
Now I have completed all the rehabilitation courses, I can walk, run, and even jump. In conclusion, I must say: my medical insurance was really worth it!