There’s no “work” to do at the hospital, at least not in the meaningful, productive sense I used to know. But this is my work. In fact, it’s the most important work I have right now. Every day, at a set time, I undergo physical therapy. Therapists assist me for 50 minutes. They help me move my body, use my legs, and move my arms. It’s tough. My muscles feel like they’re screaming, and it takes a huge amount of mental energy. But I don’t give up. I know this is the only path back to the world outside.
I also practice speaking. My speech therapist constantly talks to me, making me repeat words that are difficult to pronounce. Sometimes they show me picture cards to identify objects, and other times they use simple games to stimulate my cognitive abilities. It can be fun, like being a child again and learning everything about the world from scratch. But there are also hard times. There are things I just can’t do. I can think of it, but my body won’t cooperate. My mouth won’t obey. It’s so strange. Perfect sentences form in my mind, words I want to say overflow, but when I open my mouth, odd sounds come out, or nothing at all.
What is this? Why can’t I do it? It seems simple, but it’s hard. Ordinary things like using chopsticks or buttoning a shirt feel like enormous mountains to me. My fingers don’t move as I intend, and my sense of balance isn’t what it used to be. Yet, even though it seems difficult, I also feel like I can do it. A surge of hope rises when I feel even a tiny bit better today than yesterday. “Is it not? Is it? Is it? Is it not?” I constantly question myself. I lack confidence in my judgment, and everything is confusing. My brain wanders, lost between past memories and present reality. It’s disorienting.
Still, I keep going. Every morning when I open my eyes, I unfailingly head to the physical therapy room. Amidst pain and frustration, I don’t stop. Because I want to live again. I want to walk again, speak again, and fulfill my role again. The world outside the window is still waiting for me. My beloved family, the tasks I need to do, the dreams I wanted to achieve. All these things are the driving force that keeps me moving. Perhaps this physical therapy is more than just physical recovery; it might be a process of training my mind and will. I believe that every day’s small efforts will accumulate and eventually bring about a huge change. Today, too, I fight with my body, converse with myself, and take another step forward for my recovery. I earnestly hope that at the end of this arduous journey, I can reclaim everything I lost and stand in the world again, stronger than before.
✅ Simple, Repetitive Word Practice – Speech Support (English)
- Bicycle Bicycle Bicycle Bicycle Bicycle Bicycle Bicycle Bicycle Bicycle Bicycle
- Child Child Child Child Child Child Child Child Child Child
- Apple Apple Apple Apple Apple Apple Apple Apple Apple Apple
- Guitar Guitar Guitar Guitar Guitar Guitar Guitar Guitar Guitar Guitar
- Korean melon Korean melon Korean melon Korean melon Korean melon Korean melon Korean melon Korean melon Korean melon Korean melon
- Pear Pear Pear Pear Pear Pear Pear Pear Pear Pear
- Elephant Elephant Elephant Elephant Elephant Elephant Elephant Elephant Elephant Elephant
- Eagle Eagle Eagle Eagle Eagle Eagle Eagle Eagle Eagle Eagle
- Traffic light Traffic light Traffic light Traffic light Traffic light Traffic light Traffic light Traffic light Traffic light Traffic light
- Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom
- Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin
- Bed Bed Bed Bed Bed Bed Bed Bed Bed Bed
- Water tap Water tap Water tap Water tap Water tap Water tap Water tap Water tap Water tap Water tap
- Broom Broom Broom Broom Broom Broom Broom Broom Broom Broom
- Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom Mushroom