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.

the power of friends

The Power of Friends

Throughout our lives we relate to others, meet and make friends on all the paths we walk; early friendships on the playground or at parent-planned “play dates”, school friends from early day care programs through high school, college and beyond.  “Friends” are those we invite to parties and sleepovers, visit beaches and parks with our parents, meet at school and in the neighborhood.  Friendships form the roots of our social life, our networks and connecting links as we move from childhood to adolescence to adulthood.  All friendships are unique, but there are some common features; likes and dislikes, favorite games, similar interests in theatre or the arts, politics and sports, school subjects and mostly a sense of safety:  friends “have our backs”; they are our supporters in times of danger or stress and we can trust them to guide us if needed; to hold us up, or calm us down but mostly to be there.  

Beginning week three of my (very) slow recovery from ankle and heel surgery, still in a cast, still unable to ambulate without my mostly trusty roll-about I have had a lot of time to spare and spend.  Living alone and limited to one floor with tricky corners and turns, I’ve had more than enough time to reflect on the power of friendship, the dance between friends of giving and taking, asking and doing, following and guiding and mostly just being there.  Friends call to check in and ask what they can do to help; some remember a favorite food I usually purchase at one of our many grocery outlets and call to ‘take an order.” Others stop by to delivery the mail, or share fresh fruit from a local farmer’s market.  The most helpful moments are the ones when a friend calls to ask:  What do you need? What can I do?” I’ve found that this is the time for me to take stock of what I do need, what I can do alone, and honestly ask for specific help.  At first I felt uncomfortable making specific requests, such as: could you wipe down the kitchen counter and put away dishes in the dishwasher; or could you open that case of water and put a few bottles in the frig.  Some requests seemed too personal, such as help with getting clean underwear from the upstairs bedroom, doing a laundry and remaking my bed or shampooing my hair.  What I have found is that I can and now do make those requests with simple statements:

 “Can you take a few minutes and bring me something from upstairs: or “My hair feels so dry, could you do a quick shampoo?”    

One rule I learned early that has helped me a lot:  I am usually very specific about what I ask for, making sure it is comfortable and doable for the friend, and I am careful to check when they visit how long they can stay. If I am clear that I need a nap in an hour, say, or have someone coming later, the time lines for each visit fall naturally in place.  Likewise, its helpful to clarify what a friend can, wants to do when visiting, and how long they will stay. 

The most satisfying times come when a friend joins me for a meal, and we share stories about our past lives, decisions we made, how we got to where we are today.  At other times, a friend will drop by with my favorite sandwich from the health food store, grilled Portobello and eggplant, and other friends or neighbors stop by.  In effect, I feel a bit like Dorothy Parker at the Algonquin roundtable, listening, adding a thought or two, and enjoying the stimulation and the support these visits provide. 

I’ve got two weeks to go before the cast is removed, and yes, I am chaffing at the bit, wanting to get out, to be more independent.  Learning the art of patience is, for me, harder than any other skill.  I remember back in the 1980’s when my Crohn’s disease acted up again and I was briefly hospitalized.  One morning I got out of bed, washed up for the morning, and found myself simultaneously pressing  one remote to put the TV on while the other hand held a remote to raise the head board of the bed.  Multi-tasking at 8am with nothing more to do the whole day! 

Today is Sunday: papers to read, crossword puzzles to decipher, a friend bringing lunch to share.  Another day crossed off the calendar.