With feet entangled, pressing the foot-board, cramped back, buttocks sore, we greet the new day two hours after the last time we lay awake. It is now four o'clock, yet darker than it was wen I got into bed.
Twist and grope for call-light button. It is always there, yet never quite where it was before. Found. Pushed. And some time later, tap-tap on the door.
"I want out of bed."
Cheery little girl who a year ago was looking forward to the Senior Prom untangles my feet, twists legs to hang over the edge of the bed. Drains bag, washes hands, watches solicitously as I stand and move feet carefully until backs of the legs touch recliner's front. I Sit. She tucks my feet, makes up the bed, makes sure the call button is at my hand.
And I am alone. Three hours until breakfast which will be long after the buttocks hurt from sitting and three hours until dawn's early light.
This is the first of the pieces I wrote in my notebook. This morning the handwriting seems, though my own, almost illegible. Time has passed, sometimes tediously, and I am much better. Two days later the hideous recliner was replaced by a new one! Much better. Now on Friday (2/19) the PT released me to move about my room and to roam the halls without supervision!
5 comments:
I always wonder how anyone manages to journal while feeling so lousy. I'm sure that feeling sorry for myself would consume all of my energy.
Not being able to get around and being dependent on other people makes for total craziness and frustration - not to mention the butt numbness!
I remember similar times. My hand writing, which was never very good, has become nearly impossible to decipher.
Glad you are able to be up and around now. Sorry you had to go through the dark times to get to this point.
Grace, indeed having to rely on others for everything is the hardest part of this (some days,anyway). But I am grateful that there are people able and willing to do these things.
Chuck, why do some of us allow the script to degenerate while others maintain a Palmer hand to the very last note.
Ilene, visit my GP tomorrow, then on to the house. I hope.
Post a Comment