Confined to a wheelchair, her main pleasure appeared centred on being alone outside. Unable to get out of bed at night, she would roll herself onto the carpet in the early hours of the morning to drag her body to the terrace door. The nurse would find her on the floor, staring at the ocean or asleep, her head leaning against the windowpane.
Her apartment had become her cage. She had concentrated mainly on learning to move about without the use of her legs as much as was allowed or possible. Ultimately, she had given up on the idea and got used to her wheelchair, although she still preferred sitting on the ground when she was alone. It was as if the floor or the barren ground gave her a sense of vitality, absorbing her pain and restoring her will to live.