THE THREE “R’S”

August 24, 2014

Repair, Reboot, Rejoice.  Finally fitted with a removable boot, I can now ambulate with a walker, navigate the stairs and, blessedly, take a shower.   This has been a remarkable eight weeks, adjusting to strict limits on my activities, the frustration of reaching for most things that are too far away, too high up or too close to the floor.  Using a gripper to extend my hand helps me retrieve fallen papers, boxes of tissues, items deep in the refrigerator.  The only challenge was the day the gripper fell out of reach! 

Confinement, combined with a drastically narrowed range of activity and mobility can set off an array of emotions:  frustration, depression, boredom and loneliness, low energy combined with anger at myself for being hasty, impatient and unproductive.  So much that needs doing; dirty dishes piled in the sink, newspapers read and discarded and left on tables and chairs needing to be transferred to outdoor recycling bins.  Easy tasks, except when you can’t independently move the rolling scooter over the doorway frame and overreaching can lead to a tipping of the scooter dangerously close to the sidewalk. I’ve watched as the summer weeks slipped by, an abundance of thick-leaved trees, the birds visiting my bird feeder in vain, the sudden darkness as another thunderstorm approached. 

I’ve been blessed to have an array of family, friends and neighbors offer their help, drop by with gifts of favorite foods, call from supermarkets asking if I need more milk, or bagels, or fruit from a farmers market.  I’ve written in earlier blogs about the gifts of both giving and receiving, and find I am trying hard to live out what I suggested then.  So when I ask for help, I try to match my request to the capacity, ability, interest, comfort level of friends or neighbors.  So some of my visitors have cooked meals for me, some have instead brought food from our favorite restaurants; some offer to drive me to the Doctor if my son is not available; all regularly call to check in on my status.

At times, a friend would appear at the door, just to visit and within minutes, another friend arrived, as well as my neighbor with the day’s mail.  Often, these unplanned drop-ins led to amazing discussions among us; about world events, books we have read or plan to read, updates of family plans. I’ve cleaned out filing cabinet drawers with help from an old friend since moved to New Jersey, but visiting for the weekend. We shared memories of actions taken to change children’s health care services, finding reports and draft legislation in old dated notebooks; projects planned and executed, notes from a weekend convention or conference dating from the 1980’s. When two members of my book club dropped by, we looked through one of my many bookcases talking about the books we had read and how many we have kept over time.  Among the lessons I have learned is the one I call “ask for help now, so you don’t need it later”.  I used this when a friend’s husband came to pick her up and I asked him to carry a bulky package that had arrived in the mail to my bedroom.  Or asking the man who delivered my “order by computer, food delivery service from a local supermarket” to reach deep into a high shelf in the kitchen and retrieve a large bowl.  I had a friend once who said “It’s the little things that get you down” and I find myself reframing it: “It’s the little things that make life worth living, that ‘get you up’”.

For now, my biggest challenge will be to keep myself from catching up; overdoing things, moving in haste, and the dreaded: doing two or more things at once!  Three more weeks with a large boot and a walker, enjoying the pace, moving away from multitasking to making each task, each activity an end in itself. Making peace with myself and my body.  Just being.