On days like this one, I feel incredibly lucky. Lucky to be retired, to have a home, to have good company and reliable support, access to information and also, living with a someone who makes excellent coffee.
It has been raining, mostly, for days. I managed to sneak out for a walk during some of the few dry patches but yesterday, it hit me head on halfway and I sloshed back home, soaked and cold. When I sat down on the stairs in the hall to take off my shoes, the first wave of vertigo hit me so hard, I actually had to laugh. There you are, you fucker. Who cares, I don't have to go anywhere. Missed your chances.
The day before, I was trying out walking with headphones. I have never done this before, it's a mixture of wanting to hear the sounds around me and being scared that someone will sneak up from behind and clobber me over the head. Anyway, it was foggy, I was halfway through an interview with Terry Waite about his time as a hostage in Lebanon when someone tapped my shoulder. From behind. It was A, my neighbour from across the garden. So of course, we walked on together. I have a complicated non-relationship with her, long story to do with watching her raise her daughters, getting a divorce and also, how she always cuts her hedge at the wrong time of the year chasing the nesting birds away. In short, I usually stay out of her way. She is lonely. I listened. To the long story. I still have complicated feelings. The next day I purposefully did not pass her house when I set out. Anyway, it was raining. Maybe I feel bad about it, not the rain but avoiding being seen by her. Not sure if I have another go with headphones.
In my inbox, a brief message from a doctor, matter of fact and so on, in a last sentence mentioning BTW the option of removing an entire section of my intestine. Possible improvement of quality of life. I ponder the words in order: possible? improvement? quality? life? and it's a riddle.
Thank you for your comments and your concerns about me cycling to the hospital. Rest assured, I am a careful cyclist, a skilled cyclist and a very experienced one. Maybe the word is seasoned? I would never attempt to endanger my or anybody's life or the condition of my bicycle by reckless behaviour. I have been cycling for the past 60 years, pretty much daily, at least weekly, on four continents, as a means of getting from A to B and back. It's not a fitness or sports activity for me. Some days, I am better on two wheels than on two feet.
This also happened. Spring.
8 comments:
I love the days when I don't just realize how lucky I am, but FEEL it too.
Are those butter cups? I don't recognize the foliage. Glad to hear you are walking as well as biking, and of course, making wise choices of your path, as necessary to stay away from intruding neighbors. Vertigo, not so much.
Too early for buttercups. These are winter aconit, the winter version of buttercups. Always the first, often before snowdrops.
I wonder how many doctors consider a patient's actual life when they say, possible improvement or quality of life. How well do they know their patients? How do they know qualities a patient values. I had a patient, almost forty years ago, and he was an older Eastern European man who had been a soccer player. He was diabetic and had a gangrenous foot which he refused to have amputated. That was his quality of life.
I like walking with people, sometimes, or maybe even rarely. The dogs don't talk to me which I appreciate:)
That is a riddle. I wonder if the doctor (any of the doctors) have any idea of how grateful you are for the quality of life you have right here, right now, against several odds. In recent years, I've experienced laughing under circumstances something like those you described.
It's dark and rainy during the day here, too. Our river is much shorter and smaller but looks just like your river in the rain. With a little googling, I learned that we have aconit here, but I don't know recall seeing it. Our snowdrops began blooming this past week. I look forward to seeing your garden in the coming months. When I looked up just now I see there is a Northern Flicker at my suet feeder and ducks flying across the sky. Any day now the migrating Canada geese will arrive. On a walk last weekend with my cousin, we heard a frog or maybe it was a toad. Spring.
those are basically my gratitudes at yoga while Abby ends with her Jesus prayer. grateful I'm not hungry, homeless, or sick. and sometimes I add in the husband.
I've been known to walk in a different direction so as not to get pigeonholed by a neighbor who talks talks talks her tales of woe and hardly ever finishes a sentence. once caught, it's hard to exit without interrupting and being rude.
possible improvement? let us take out a portion of your intestine and maybe it will be better? um, I'd have to think long and hard about that.
I'm glad you are enjoying retirement. It was a real game changer for me.
If Spring happened you will probably be doing even more cycling. Bravo!
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