Overwhelmed

            Things keep happening that distract me from writing. Health issues are at the top.

I’m still struggling with long Covid, which makes me lethargic, makes my body ache, makes my limbs feel as if they are being sucked down into the earth. It freezes my brain, stealing written words before they can be written. Before they are even fully developed into thoughts.

There’s nothing that can be done that my doctor hasn’t tried. She’s constantly searching for new ideas, but no one really knows what to do to help people like me.

Then there’s my big toe. The nail decided to crumble, then had to be removed. Once the anesthetic wore off, the pain was incredible. Worse than before. It made sleep difficult. With a fuzzy brain, I had another excuse for not being able to write.

On to my knee. Getting out of my car, there was an audible pop, followed by intense pain. I’d partially torn my MCL and quad on my right knee. Once again, throbbing, while the big toe on the other foot still hurt.

Next came the pinkie on my left foot. It decided to swell up so much so that it couldn’t bend. Try walking when your toe won’t bend!

Once the toes settled down and the tears began to heal, the “hitch” I’d had in my right knee worsened. Whenever I want to straighten my leg, I have to hook my left foot under my calf and pull up.

There’s an audible pop, followed by pain. I’ve had this for a couple of years, but after the tears, things worsened. It’s now excruciatingly painful, so much so that I cry out.

This week I learned that the knee will have to be replaced, for a third time!

Then there are the pleasures.

My husband and I love going to the theater for live performances as well as to see a movie. It seems like all of our reservations popped up within the same two weeks! I’m not complaining as I got to see three amazing plays and two fantastic movies, but when I’m sitting in the theater, I’m not even thinking about writing.

Well, that’s not exactly true, but close.

Anyway, those are my excuses for falling behind on my posts!

Taking Care of Me

I really like going to the gym. Even at my heaviest, I went to the gym five times a week, at a minimum. Sometimes I went every day. Sometimes I skipped a Sunday, especially when I had to clean bird cages.

When I first joined a gym I went after school, but I found that challenging. I’d come home tired and wanting alone time, but because I had a gym membership, I felt obligated to go. Once there, I’d relax. And I’d feel proud that I had changed clothes and made the effort.

A year into that membership I started getting up at 4:00 AM to be at the gym by 4:15 when it opened. I’d exercise for an hour, then come home and get ready for work. Again, I felt proud of myself. After all, this meant sacrifice, right? But I am a morning person, so it worked.

After my first knee replacement, it was hard getting back into that morning routine. In fact, it took months before I could do much of anything except ride a bike and use some of the weight machines. Mike would drive me to the gym, then come back in an hour to get me. It hurt, but exercise loosened up my knee and made it function properly.

After some investigation I discovered that the gym in the town where I worked opened at 6:00 AM. I could sleep in a little longer, eat breakfast, feed the birds, then leave. There I walked in the water. Back and forth, back and forth, getting in as many laps as I could. Then I would shower and dress for work, teach all day, feeling proud of myself.

I lost weight. And gained weight. Each time I had surgery or broke something or a knee fell apart, I’d gain weight. Then I’d return to the gym as soon as I could and lose weight, but never as much as I had gained. It felt like I was a hamster in a wheel, spinning around and around and going backwards.

I joined Weight Watchers. That helped. I loved the expectations because they were reasonable and doable. I lost weight. In fact, altogether about thirty pounds. I gave away my too-big clothes and gleefully bought new.

But then another surgery, weight gain, bigger clothes. I was caught in a cycle that seemed to have no end.

The one consistency in my life was exercise. Every day that I could, I was at the gym. I walked in the water until my knee was strong enough and then I swam. I’d go to my gym nights and weekends. I kept my weight under control and even lost a few pounds.

Last year I was told that I needed surgery but the surgeon would not operate until I’d lost a considerable amount of weight. That was my motivation.

Interestingly enough, my exercise routine has not changed. I swim up to five days a week. I work with weight machines at least two. I use the elliptical and stationary bike at least two.

Since I’ve been retired I go out walking with my husband every day, except when it’s raining.

And I love it all. I love swimming. I feel sleek and powerful in the water even though I am not the fastest swimmer. But once I start, I don’t stop until I’ve swum a half mile. At the end, I feel tired, but proud.

When I am using the machines, I get embarrassed because of my floppy arms, but I push and pull over and over, knowing that what I am doing will make me stronger. And I feel proud.

On the elliptical and bike I challenge myself to up the ante by increasing friction and moving longer. It’s tiring, but it feels awesome.

Every single time I exercise, I smile. I am doing it for me. All for me, and that’s what makes it so special and meaningful.

When I had small kids, I did things for them. When I was a stay-at-home mom, I did things for Mike as well. I cooked and cleaned and shopped because I loved taking care of my family. I loved being with them and watching them grow physically, emotionally and mentally.

I took care of many dogs and cats and eventually birds. I did it out of love. They loved me back, which felt great. Well, maybe the birds didn’t love me, but they “talked” to me when I spoke to them.

I still have responsibilities at home, but Mike has shouldered many of them since he retired. I no longer grocery shop or cook or wash dishes or run the vacuum or push dust around. We share responsibility for the cat, but the birds are mine.

What I do have is time for me, and while there are many ways that I divvy up that time, a good portion still goes to exercise. I eagerly put on the right clothes and head out. I look forward to going, knowing that after lunch, my usual time, is dedicated to taking care of me.

We all need to do that. To set aside portions of every day that belong to us. Time when we do what we want to do, not what we need to do or are expected to do.

If you haven’t done that yet, give it a try. It’s amazing how wonderful you’ll feel.