Pass the Peas, Please

Ow.  The after-effects of my last tumble are taking hold.  My arms hurt where the paramedics pulled me out of the way.  I did something to my foot with this second fall...there’s a black-n-blue “band” across my ankle.  I think I may have twisted it.  Etcetera.  Time to get out the frozen peas to "ice" it.

Go to a doctor?  Not at this time.  Nothing is broken.  Basically, what I really need to do is rest.  Preferably in bed with this foot elevated.

I’m not too good with bed rest.  Unless I can sleep soundly, I just mentally ping off the walls with grand plans of what I think I need to do, ideas to implement, and “stuff” in general.

I can’t read in bed anymore.  I did that all the time when I was younger.  But now when I read, I prefer to have my book/Kindle on a table and underline/highlight or make notes.

Maybe this is the time to pop in the audiobook I have on The Pilgrim’s Progress (John Bunyan).  I have a  CD player beside my bed, so I’ll just settle in for 10+ hours!  Pass the peas, please!

Round One!

Well, I debated blogging about this…but it’s really not some big, dark secret.  I fell a few weeks ago, and my doctor said the words I SO did not want to hear: “You really shouldn’t live alone anymore.”  I felt like saying, “Well, what am I supposed to DO?!”  I don’t want to leave my home.  Don’t want to leave my Greyhounds.  So begins the search for people…programs…ANYthing that can help me.

After several dead-ends, I finally had a glimpse of hope today.  "Sally" called me back today.  We eliminated one program because I can still dress myself (oh…my…GOSH!!!), but she feels she may be able to put me on a waiting list for some other things to help such as people to help with cleaning -- mopping floors, changing bed linens, doing the bathrooms, etc.  Stuff I simply can’t do anymore.  She is going to call me next month and set up a time to interview me. Going to see what they can do to help.

I’ve gone through a BUNCH of interviews during my life.  I was always sharing what I COULD do before.  You know…selling myself!  Now I’ll be telling her what I CAN’T do.

I don’t like this.  Which reminds me of another thing my doctor told me during my visit with him.  “You’re in denial.”  No argument.  I think it’s the denial that makes me fight.  It’s not so much denial that I close my eyes, turn my head and don’t search for options, alternatives, etc.  But, yes, it sends me to go lacing up my gloves—not going down without a fight!

Poetry Pause - A Journey with MS

I trip
down a corridor darkly

wall-walking the length
and breadth and height
my fingers reach
(when feeling out of sight)

afraid for tomorrow
but searching for
the rest of my life

I may stumble
I may fall
but never will I stop

Pandora
Mirage Literary and Arts Magazine 2000

I needed to remind myself of what I wrote, what I had been feeling.  I don't think I've ever been as close to giving up as now.  I needed to read...write down...remember...NEVER WILL I STOP.