Waiting to regain my balance

July 4, 2014

I sit here today, Independence Day in America, counting the days before I will temporarily lose a great deal of my own freedom of movement.  I am preparing for foot surgery in less than a week, followed by an extended period of discomfort and limited use of my left foot; no sudden turns or missteps that end in a loss of balance and a potential fall.  I've spent these days preparing my house and myself to adapt to new or different functions.  For the house, it has meant a new arrangement of spaces for work and sleep, meals and personal hygiene.  The purchase of an “on sale” twin bed with box spring and frame to stay on the main floor; moving furniture and throw rugs to assure open safe pathways to the bathroom, kitchen and front door; turning half the dining room into my home office; removing the annoying front screen door to avoid tripping.

I’ve gotten great advice from my visiting physical therapist about how to set up the kitchen for safe meal preparation; small closed plastic bottles to carry in the walker’s basket with water or juice; individual packets of snacks, fresh fruit near by.  Moving, turning, walking, standing up or sitting down, I will need to give them all complete undivided focus.  No multitasking, or impatient actions, as if this clearly logical behavior is at all doable all the time for some of us.  I look back on a day in the early 1980’s; I was hospitalized with a recurrence of my Crohn’s disease, and at 8 o’clock in the morning, I found myself simultaneously changing channels on the TV remote with one hand while raising the bed’s head board with the bed’s remote in my other hand.  A full 24 hours to pass, with no agenda, no “must do’s” and I was multitasking.  So no, I will learn from my past. 

Mail and newspapers are being brought to the house daily by great neighbors, since I cannot miss out on my daily addiction to crossword puzzles and news on broadsheets and not computer screens.The trash pails are being moved for pickup.   Family, friends and neighbors have begun to rally around, assuring me that I will not be abandoned indoors, bored, lonely or hungry.  I do worry that this regimen may end up with me regaining my lost ten pounds. 

The harder part of the process involves my getting in touch with my frustration, anger at my body once again betraying me, a sense of the loss of independence and balance so I can begin to reframe it as positively as I can.  A dear friend sent me a moving meditation on learning to separate ourselves from our bodies, holding to the wholeness of ourselves while allowing our bodies to heal.  My son suggested downloading a meditation called “simply being,” which I will do today. 

In 1973 I had a major medical crisis; after 4 years of successfully treating my Crohn’s disease with medication and diet, my small intestine ruptured.  I survived emergency surgery, and was told that I would have to fully heal, limit my activities and return for the rest of the surgery to finish the repair in 8 months.  How to fill that waiting time became my major challenge.  I quit my job, spent more time with my 5 year old daughter and we both joined the Y that fall; she to take ballet lessons, me to learn to weave.  Amazing!   In order to create a rug or a wall hanging, or any other woven item, you need to first line up each thread of the warp in perfectly tuned tension before threading the wool across and around each thread.  Rush, or be sloppy and the fabric will not be aligned.  I turn today to how I managed then to slow down, be at ease, and create.  

Having just written this, I have noticed that there is less tension in my shoulders, and I find myself smiling at a cardinal looking for seeds in my garden.