'Time is your friend...'
... for Knots in the String.
I’m a recidivist escapist.
Let me explain…
I visited my surgeon today after somewhat of a bloody (in the most literal sense) night last weekend. Whilst everything’s okay (a spontaneous event that can happen with some people’s wounds) and I’m progressing well despite that one hiccup, the specialist said something really profound. He addressed the comment to that particular health issue, but I thought about it after, jotting it down in my journal for future reference. Simply, ‘Time is your friend.’
It applies so directly to how we (I) should approach anything. To take the time...
In terms of recuperation, I had been fixated on reaching milestones. Rest was one such. But it perhaps wasn’t as restful as it could have been. I should have just laid back and thought of nothing, letting myself sink into a relaxed and regirding oblivion. But most often, I didn’t. Afternoon naps have never sat well with me and so I would lie on the couch and try to write or surf the net, try to escape. Now I must lie down, breathe, close my eyes. I’ve found the consequence is that I can sleep for at least two hours. Astonishing!
I also recall watching The Summit on TV. The reality show where the competitors must run the gamut of a mountain, and treachery from their friends, to win money. The winner was a disabled woman who had my utmost respect for what she achieved. She was born with a congenital birth defect leaving her with only half an arm but she never let it hold her back. She would just chant quietly to herself as she clambered up rock faces, clung to ladders across crevasses and edged across fragile swinging rope bridges: ‘One step at a time. One step at a time.’ That and her personal values were remarkable.
And so here I am. Healing, able to do most things myself within reason. But if I chant the mantras: ‘One step at a time’ and ‘Time is your friend’, then my expectations are less taut and more real.
Doing:
Big week of not much. I did the ironing (seated) one day, made my favourite coffee cake (had to recline supine after that) and some cakes for shearing (they are shearing the flock as we speak).
I also reached 5000 + steps one day.
Had a shallow bath (heaven) and began to reclaim my freedom by driving for the first time in 3 weeks, a towel between the big incision (the others are healed) and the seatbelt. But even that was tiring.
I’ve stitched on and off at night in front of TV, and thought a lot about Act Three, but my application and discipline are miniscule. I attribute it to the daily demands on my body and mind as I heal. In other words … one step at a time.
I went to ballet class socially, finding it so hard not to move as I watched them from the front.
(They’ll hate me for the screen grab but truly, the whole video I filmed is lovely. They should be so proud!)
Watching, I did wonder if I will ever have the required energy and muscle fitness again. But seeing everyone was life-generating! They’re such a lovely bunch and I owe them for their support. Thank you for having me as an observer, Catharine Maggie and girls!
Reading: My concentration is still fractured so that I read briefly and then put things down. In such a haphazard manner, I’ve finished the Laurain and have begun The Cypress Maze by Fiona Valpy. I have no interest in listening to audio much, would rather listen to Spotify music while on the couch. I’m also dipping into and out of Benjamin Hoff’s The Tao of Pooh and The Te of Piglet which is remarkably serendipitous in the light of Elizabeth Beggin’s post this week (see below).
In addition, I had joy from reading
Kana lives in the most beautiful hidden valley in Japan.
Also from Elizabeth’s Chicken Scratch this week.
And Sue’s Everyone Else…
Very much close to home too, Sabrina Simpson on working dog trials.
Watching:
Buckley’s Chance with Bill Nighy. Mostly a kid’s movie. 3.5 stars? But 4.9 stars for the dingo and Nighy’s excellent Australian accent.
Chelsea Flower Show. Rationed it to one a night. I made a mental list of plants and then went shopping at one of our best perennial nurseries (online). Some lovely purchases which will be ready for collection at Woodbridge in a couple of weeks. Of course, me planting them won’t happen for a while – it has to be at least 6 weeks from surgery, and this is only week 3. (But my gosh! How swiftly those weeks are flying!)
Hugh’s Wild West (Hugh Fearnley Wittingstall, chef and amateur naturalist) whose beautiful documentary series on England’s West Country has filled us with wonder and delight.
It’s interesting being tied down by injury. I’ve always been the kind of person who prefers to displace by escaping. Walking to the beach to sit and listen to the waves and examine wild coastal life. Walking the country roads to listen to the birds and observe the native plants and trees. Gardening, pulling weeds, cutting back, noticing what’s budding.But now, I’m tied to my energy levels and our couch, with nothing to look at but windows, walls, furniture and what I can see of the garden when supine. Which throws me back upon the resources of true mindfulness – the breath and the body. Not the detail of the lounge room, or the noises beyond the windows. Just me.
It's daunting when one is a recidivist escapist. But if I succeed with one step at a time, then I think I will heal even quicker and I might also gain better access to one of the greatest resources offered to anyone, and indeed the time to make it my friend.
Music? Something relaxing that I’ve played before. But this time a vocal version.
'Time is your friend.' Such wise, wise words, Prue. Some in my circle who have had surgery in the last few months (or are indeed awaiting it) would (and will!) do well to take heed!
You're doing such a great job, dear Prue! I'm behind on my reading (as you can see!) but I'm so, so pleased to read this latest update of your recovery progress before your next post lands! I hope you've had a really good week.
(I adore the picture of you at the wheel of the car - a lovely smile!) xxx
What I found in my 44year career in Physical Therapy and shared with my patients was that the body healed best with rest and that for every hour under anesthesia, the body and mind needed a month towards restoration. I, personally found that the return of "grumpiness" meant I was healing! Lol! Also, for chronic pain, 3 days relatively painfree, add one activity....however if vacuuming is your one activity, it only means one room! It's amazing what we take for granted . Standing baking can be exhausting. Taking a shower, a short trip around the garden, folding laundry, all can require rest. Yes, time is on your side. Rest well!