Tuesday, October 1, 2019

Rabbit Rabbit October first 2019

I'm not sure where the tradition of saying rabbit rabbit on the first day of the month started.  Nick's family did it. Mine didn't.  In fact I had never heard it before.

Yesterday was another hard day at physical therapy.  I need to be able to stretch my knee joint and I am not quite there yet.  It's so hard and I am so scared that I won't get to be where I need to be before the scar tissue sets in permanently.

I am feeling old.  For the first time in my life, I honestly feel like I am old.  Nothing wrong with old.  It's just my mind tells me that old means limited.  Limited in what I will be able to do. Limited in being who I feel like I am.   I have to tell myself that I will regain some of my energy.  My body has just been through a lot.

Today I meet a hematologist to see what I can learn about my health concerning my blood clot,the medication I am on, and what my near and far future look like.

I did so well on Weight Watchers, but since my surgery I have gained.  Not a ton, "only" 6 pounds.    But I am going in the wrong direction.

My eyes are really messed up.  I don't know what's going on.  I can barely read the words on the TV.  My vision is blurry.  Even though I now have permission to drive, I don't. Partly because I don't feel physically ready, but even more so, the fact that my vision is so off.

I must see my eye doctor, but decided to wait to see the other doctors and find out if this is a result of medication.

There are so many things I want to do.  Not really a bucket list per se .  Just places and things I want to do and see.    First I need to find out when I'll be eligible to fly again (blood clot).  And when will I feel well enough.

I am really looking forward to the train trip to New Orleans  next month with my sister.   Nick is worried that it might be "too much" for me.  I understand his concern. If I cannot keep up, I can hang around the hotel, rest, swim and take a slower pace.

I think often of my mother.  She has her disabling stroke when she was younger than I am.   She was an independent,  feisty person up to then.   I wish she had talked about her experiences being stuck in her broken body.  I wish I had know what questions to ask.  Maybe she tried to tell us.  I was so busy with my own life.  Kids, school activities, travel. 

I wonder if my own children see me as broken, old?   I will not ask them and put them in an uncomfortable position.    I know that they love me  and they know that I love them.

No comments:

Post a Comment