Category: disability and illness

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

We can’t call our parents to ask for their advice. War preparation, yes. Pandemic, no. They are gone, anyway; their generation suffered enough trauma.

The infamous red line.

I love Norway.

I sit at the desk in my writing shed, affectionately dubbed Norway, thankful for the temperate winter of central Arizona and not the tundra of Scandinavia. The addition of a Wi-Fi extender in the house allows me to access the internet when I need to close the door. Sometimes.

But I’m not writing.

My mind is working to interpret data as I plan my week. A sharp red line on the daily news chart indicates a rise in Covid infections that refuses to decline. Recalling that several friends and family are suffering either Covid or colds or flu tempts me to consider isolating at home another week.

I met friends for coffee this morning. We are all cautious, masking frequently, washing our hands, and limiting our social interactions. We are all skipping the gym this week, instead joining Noreen in yoga via Zoom biweekly. How far do we venture without risking ill health? Is this an excuse? Memories of annual bouts of severe bronchitis caution me to take extra care.

I miss it.

It has been weeks since I attended my Wednesday writing group, being out of town for the holidays and/or quarantining while family members recovered from Covid. It meets tomorrow, and I have missed it. The fellowship is encouraging. The ambience of the coffee shop/wine bar nestled in a unique book shop is stimulating.

But there is that line.

No one in the world has been prepared for this. No one in the world knows how to handle it. We can’t call our parents to ask for their advice. War preparation, yes. Pandemic, no. They are gone, anyway; their generation suffered enough trauma.

Should I stay or should I go? As I this moment, I don’t know.

To the Lake!

It is encouraging that a minimum amount of exertion awards significant results. Like a carrot on a stick, the strength in my legs emboldens me to return to the gym.

Lake Pleasant, Peoria, AZ

A Tradition Everyone Enjoys

The tradition sprouted several years ago on Mother’s Day when we surprised ED by renting a pontoon boat on Lake Pleasant for the afternoon. That even the sulky teens enjoyed the adventure warranted a repeat.

Although we haven’t always gone out on Mother’s Day, our annual pontoon outing remains a favorite. Today, we head out once more.

Getting Fit

During the past two weeks fitness instructor Kelly encouraged me through three sessions of Butts and Guts, surreptitiously referred to as Blood and Guts. An additional session of yoga and a few walks outdoors has developed enough strength to garner my confidence to enjoy time in the water.

The challenge will be returning to the boat via a flimsy ladder. Worst case: the family drags me back to the dock on an inner tube providing material for a long-running legend.

I would like to blame the pandemic for my lack of fitness. Honestly, two orthopedic surgeries set me back more than COVID. The recovery time was much longer (two years) than expected. The development of arthritis in joints discourages exercise as I spend mental and physical energy adapting movement to accommodate but not aggravate the inflammation.

Feeling Strong

It is encouraging that a minimum amount of exertion awards significant results. Like a carrot on a stick, the strength in my legs emboldens me to return to the gym.

Today I will take the elevator down to the pier. I will use a floating device in the water in anticipation of unexpected muscle cramps. I will gladly suffer bruises as my family assists me into the boat.

And every movement will bring me joy and awe.

Wow! Look at that!

I wish I were as fat as I was when I first thought I was fat is an oft-heard mantra. Well, I also wish I were as strong and agile as I was when I first thought I was weak and clumsy.

Isn’t it marvelous?!

Miracle

My mind is distracted, working out plans for our upcoming road trip. Without thinking, I lift one foot to burrow my leg into the pajama pants, followed by the second leg.

Wow! I stand amazed. I didn’t fall over!

It has been well over a year since I could do a seemingly simple task, one which I had always taken for granted until I could no longer do it. Today’s mark of improvement gave me a much needed burst of positivity.

Listen

Oh, young people. Be aware of the amazing feats your body performs and enjoy the ease with which it moves. Walking down the street the other day, I noted the strength in my muscles and the coordination of hips/knees/ankles. It was so marvelous that I was almost giddy.

Wow! Look at that!

I wish I were as fat as I was when I first thought I was fat is an oft-heard mantra. Well, I also wish I were as strong and agile as I was when I first thought I was weak and clumsy.

Now every action elicits Wow! Look at that!

Deconditioned

We store the walker in the garage. I am sure we will need it again someday. 

Ouch!

For 500+ mile the car bumped along the pre-interstate roads of the 1960s. My ear throbbed constantly, symptom of the inevitable ear infection following a week swimming at the lake in Minnesota. Each jolt of the vehicle sent sharp pains into my jaw and skull. The excruciating pain limited my swallow and speech. Crammed into the car with my parents and three siblings, I found little comfort and no rest.

Shortly after we arrived home, our neighbor doctor came to the house (the good ole days) and administered a shot of penicillin. Within an hour, I was feeling fine.

Too slow!

These memories came to mind as friends and I bemoaned the slow recovery from illness that we experience today. Although I often lament my current physical limitations, I remind myself that I couldn’t walk without a cane a year ago. Age becomes undeniable as we watch our bodies recover function but not to the level of our previous ability.

Deconditioning. The word humored friends until I pointed out that it is a medical term describing “a complex process of physiological change following a period of inactivity, bedrest or sedentary lifestyle. It results in functional losses in such areas as mental status, degree of continence and ability to accomplish activities of daily living. It is frequently associated with hospitalization in the elderly.”

Okay, I didn’t quote the definition to them. I was well-acquainted with it from my work in physical rehab clinics.

Limited by illness

Elderly. That’s us. My friend and I recalled when we could go to work when sick. Now, a slight malady sends us to the couch where we can’t even enjoy a good book because of mental distraction.

I am deconditioned by years of decreased activity thanks to arthritis. Two years was required to recover 95% from the hip replacement, only to be followed by a torn meniscus which could not heal because of arthritis. It is almost a year since the partial knee replacement. I do not expect to climb stairs comfortably again.

My body’s pace

The forced exercise I adopt to assist me in recovery often sends me backwards. I experience my slow but best progress when I follow the advice of my physical therapist for posture and gait, then let the body determine the rate at which it will respond.   

Yes, I am frustrated by my limitations . . . but, I can walk. Which means that my body can still heal. For that I am grateful.