Its early as always, my internal alarm clock hits an early hour as if the sun is peaking under my eye mask and my eyes flick open. It’s Saturday and I wish I could sleep in for a little bit before I get up, but then again I hate to waste the day away as I find I am most productive in the morning.
While others are sleeping I have laundry, cleaning, painting, yard work all done and am sitting with my coffee admiring the work. Thinking, yup I was able to do that. Man I rock!
Those moments I relish in to remind myself of what I can do when I feel good. It’s an anchor like a rope attached pulling me back to where I feel like I can accomplish anything; I can dream.
I was recently reading about how we all compare ourselves to the old us, the ones who could run for miles, the one who could be adventuresome, the one who was smaller and had to sit and think about that. Do I do that? Do I speak in pre-chronic illness and after?
I realized at times I certainly do. I speak to my daughter, that I use to run miles, play tennis and bike ride for hours, this was before the mobility issues, before the shaking, before the loss of eyesight and all the other wonderful things that happen. You feel like one of those commercials; may cause, drowsiness, fainting, spasms, loss of feeling, mobility loss, bladder loss, etc., etc.
I then began to question, does my mind set on this, affect what I can do now? I was 27 when they told me I had holes in my left side of my brain. My comic in me says that’s where the info I keep forgetting goes.
I remember how depressed I was, but how much of a fight I had. The day’s wobbled between the two. I remember how I just kept going, but would cry in frustration as I couldn’t walk far, my shaking would be too much or I had to sleep more, I kept going. I remember people thinking she cannot work anymore, and I would remind them that just because my body was slowing down didn’t mean my mind was, I kept going.
It is sixteen years later, and it felt like yesterday that I had to journal every day the symptoms for the doctor, and I wondered would things get better or worse? If you ask me now, it was both in different ways.
The days that it knocked me right down was like getting a hard sucker punch and I was laid out, the other days I learned to adapt, and cope. I learned that adapting was the only way, and if I let it consume me, life would not be wonderful. Life would not be what I wanted.
So I tried, I learned, I found tricks to help and I started to listen to my body more that I ever have. I found a nightcap at night would allow my muscles to relax and my body to adjust overnight. I learned that when my mind is foggy, I need to have some alone time and use mints and aromatherapy to help calm the chaotic feelings inside. I learned to juice for my health, walk as much as I can when my body allows me and to work that core to help the days when the muscles are so bad.
Then I kept realizing I said I learned and adapt over and over. These were the two key words in my life. These were the two key words of my future.
There will always be a day that regardless of what I want to do I cannot, but maybe in a week or two I can. There are days that I know something I did once, my body cannot do it anymore, so I have now gone to asking is it because you cannot do it, is that why you are upset or because it was a passion?
If it’s passion you will always find a way. If it’s not, then I need to ask myself if I was really any good at it and if so to still find a way to pursue it then and if I sucked at it, maybe it’s time to let it go and put that on my Buddha board to the universe.
This week I have worked hard on releasing some of my fears, especially the fear of not getting back up again when the mobility in my legs go. I put it out there and feel somewhat freed now to not think of it or let it consume me. Yes, I know it will still pop in my mind but I will request for guidance each time it does to find peace, I don’t want it to be a focus of my future.
Today my ugly feet that I have not liked my whole life I am giving a new appreciation to. For something I thought was so ugly, they have been been a part of the foundation of my ability to keep going. They are a rock, wide and knarled to keep me upright, to hold me as I stumble and fall, to make me think I still have more left in me each day that I accomplish a full day.
As I am numb from my head to my toes, I will adapt again this week in how I walk, the shoes I wear and how long I walk for. Mind you I am a bit competitive and give myself a goal of 10000 steps each day; if I feel bad I do what I can and rock the other days.
Now if only Lola Ramona would design me some shoes for the bad days, life would be even sweeter and more colourful. In the meantime if I find everything is way too hard, I will take an alternative route and cry and be upset for the little time I allow myself, then fix myself back up and say what the hell! I got this!
I will adapt and I will learn. I think I may add one more word to that section, I will succeed at whatever the future holds for me. Life is an adventure!
Love always the numb, adapting, be-ing brave, Woman in Process
P.S those really are my big feet. I was told once that was the largest big toe anyone has ever saw, I told them I read that it showed I was exceptionally intelligent. Appreciate your feet and be kind to yourself, love yourself.