Such a lucky lady I am. I am healing and I can actually feel and see the difference each day. I was religious the first 48 hours in applying the ice at intervals. I stayed off my foot as much as possible and elevated it. Today, 4 days later, I find I no longer need the hiking poles to walk around the house although I limp like a broken wheel across the floor. There is not much pain if I am careful in how I move.
I must get better sooner rather than later as this morning when my husband heard me hobbling from the bathroom he asked if I was ready for coffee. I called back in the affirmative as I settled back into the bed, and then 45 minutes later when no coffee smells were even wafting from the front of the house, I hobbled into the kitchen to see if could start something of my own. He looked up from his book startled and said "Oh, gosh, I forgot. I am in the middle of a major Civil War battle! The Battle of Gettysburg." This nursemaid thing is clearly NOT HIS thing.
Being a semi-invalid does erupt a smack against the head to remind one of how very, very, lucky they are! The ability to use both eyes, both ears, both hands, both feet. What a luxury of life! But being able to adjust, to accept the pain, the compromise in activity, the slow down and to be willing to be patient about the support of others is also an important lesson. I consciously made an effort to find joy in whatever small things this slow down forced me to notice. The dance of the afternoon light across the bedspread and through the trees outside, the sound of the wind, the quiet of a well-loved house, the distant activities of a partner, and the taste and smell of food. All of these I tried to be consciously thankful for to distract me from the impatience. I am a perfectionist and in old age I have tried to temper that characterflaw aspect with a more compromising attitude. It doesn't always work...but for these 4 days it has.
I must get better sooner rather than later as this morning when my husband heard me hobbling from the bathroom he asked if I was ready for coffee. I called back in the affirmative as I settled back into the bed, and then 45 minutes later when no coffee smells were even wafting from the front of the house, I hobbled into the kitchen to see if could start something of my own. He looked up from his book startled and said "Oh, gosh, I forgot. I am in the middle of a major Civil War battle! The Battle of Gettysburg." This nursemaid thing is clearly NOT HIS thing.
Being a semi-invalid does erupt a smack against the head to remind one of how very, very, lucky they are! The ability to use both eyes, both ears, both hands, both feet. What a luxury of life! But being able to adjust, to accept the pain, the compromise in activity, the slow down and to be willing to be patient about the support of others is also an important lesson. I consciously made an effort to find joy in whatever small things this slow down forced me to notice. The dance of the afternoon light across the bedspread and through the trees outside, the sound of the wind, the quiet of a well-loved house, the distant activities of a partner, and the taste and smell of food. All of these I tried to be consciously thankful for to distract me from the impatience. I am a perfectionist and in old age I have tried to temper that character