Greetings from the secret den of the stranded beetle.
I was booked to fly to Singapore this week, imagine. I got a nice refund from Singapore Airlines and now have neither a date nor a booking to get back home. Also, I am nowhere near the F2F (fit to fly) certificate that would allow me to even book a return flight.
As expected, we are losing the usual fight with the travel health insurance company. It happens every time I have a claim and they find some clause on page 529 that I overlooked or maybe not or a signature that's missing. Life goes on.
I could will be here for a while.
Meanwhile I continue with elevating the cast for 23 hrs a day and freaking out when hopping on the good leg whenever the spirit moves me as I am still in the total NWB (no weight bearing) period and have nightmares of slipping and accidentally using the cast leg. Six weeks of it I've been told, one week down, five to go.
The extremely efficient health services have supplied me with a selection of mobility aides and shower stools and handle sets for bath- and bedrooms and tomorrow I shall try the snazy knee scooter that was delivered today. The hallway is so crowded with all the gear a visitor could think we run a rehabilitation center - oh wait, that's what we do.
On Friday, the Wellington Free Ambulance Service (another example of a visionary community service) will collect me with their amphibian device to transport me down the 43 but feels like 500 steep stairs in my daughter's front garden so I can get to my next outpatient appointment. I have been told that a physiotherapist will come to the house from next week on to show me how to maintan or if necessary regain muscle power and whatever else for a decent recovery. All this is part and parcel of New Zealand's accident compensation scheme as I mentioned before.
Now, before we get carried away praising this free health care (only after accidents), let me explain. New Zealand is a small country, most of it remote, wild and with poor access to amenities, add to that earthquakes and tsunamis, erupting volcanoes and landslides. In such a setting, regardless of life skills and community support, accidents do happen and the country would go bankrupt if every person who fell down a path or was knocked down by a falling tree in a nature reserve or got hit by falling rocks on a public road starts to sue the state for damages due to poor maintenance and lack of care. Instead, the country decided to provide free health care and rehabilitation after accidents. Cheaper in the long run.
I feel very old. Really old. The last two days, I tried to take the photograph required for my visa renewal and no matter how I turn and what light or angle I chose, the result is of a scared looking old hag with scrawny long hair and I delete it immediately. One of these days, I'll have to face it.
The grandchild meanwhile thinks this is the best of times and joins me for long reading and singing and talking sessions, preferably before bedtime and before school. I treasure this time.
But while physical recovery is a given, I now have enough metal in my ankle to keep it together, mobility will most likely never be again what I had taken for granted. I am working on getting my mind ready for this, preparing for the inevitable dark hole I will eventually fall into for some time and the (I hope) recovery of my mind and soul as I prepare myself to take on yet another of these fucking life challenges.
Your youth evaporates in your early 40s when you look in the mirror. And then it becomes a full-time job pretending you’re not going to die, and then you accept that you’ll die. Then in your 50s everything is very thin. And then suddenly you’ve got this huge new territory inside you, which is the past, which wasn’t there before. A new source of strength. Then that may not be so gratifying to you as the 60s begin, but then I find that in your 60s, everything begins to look sort of slightly magical again. And it’s imbued with a kind of leave-taking resonance, that it’s not going to be around very long, this world, so it begins to look poignant and fascinating.
Martin Amis
The adventure continues...a bit hobbled. Life! Glad there are so many New Zealand services for accident victims. Keep up keeping up! Maybe this is the time to write a book?
ReplyDelete"... everything begins to look sort of slightly magical again ..."
ReplyDeleteAs it does through the eyes of your grandchild:
"The grandchild meanwhile thinks this is the best of times and joins me for long reading and singing and talking sessions, preferably before bedtime and before school. I treasure this time."
Sending love as you experience the not so joyful together with the joyful in that far away place that is taking such good care of you.
When I busted my kneecap, and had to wear a cast and not bend for two months, I found that surrendering to reality for that time period really helped me to maintain my sanity. And ice cream every damn day. It was a surreal time period. Being around your grandchild for longer than you anticipated will help. S/he will remember this. Crutches sound hard. 40 steps sound even harder.
ReplyDeleteIf you had to break your ankle at least you ar somewhere with exceptional free care. And extended time with your granddaughter.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to be 76 next month. I need to renew my passport. Not looking forward to the new picture. I hated the last one. Why can't I keep the one where I'm young?
I used to get travel insurance, and I got it early in the process, which was supposed to remove the "pre-existing conditions" clause. Hubs got so sick on a trip we were thinking about leaving early, called the insurance people, and they tried to blame it on a pre-existing condition and were sure they wouldn't pay. Called them up upon our return, and no, whoever answered the phone was just flat out wrong. Keep calling. Are you on twitter? Companies do monitor their unfavorable mentions on twitter. This sounds like a terrible bone break, I am so sorry this happened to you.
ReplyDeleteI've read this three times. I also feel so old whenever I fall, and it's happened a lot this past year. I have been fortunate and the worst injury is a sprained thumb with the last fall. It's so hard to accept this diminishing. It seems that we should have a ceremony for people as they age, to help us deal with our losses, such as independence and mobility. We grieve. I know I grieve. And these stupid high blood pressure pills make me burst into tears even more often than usual, which I didn't even know was possible.
ReplyDeleteInsurance companies are run by assholes. It's supposed to be "a thing providing protection against a possible eventuality." but in reality it is a company that wants to use your money for their own schemes, and they may or may not pay out, dependent on whether they can get out of honouring their contract.
On the plus side, you are getting such a wonderful visit with your grandchild, whom I guessing is loving having their grandmother there, and incapacitated so that she is always available:) Perhaps you two could start a journal together is this may be the most time you two will spend together. They could ask you questions.
Sending hugs and love and I hope everything heals well.
I am sure your accident and injury have rapidly accelerated the pace at which you feel you are aging. Which is fast enough on its own, dammit!
ReplyDeleteSounds like you are doing the very best anyone could. Who knew you had such reserves of strength? Well, those around you, most likely.
Creeping sheepishly back after a long absence. Glad to find you still here but sorry to hear of your present circumstances. Growing old aint for sissies, I guess, though you are the absolute opposite of a sissy. That would be me. Horrified at any recent photos and want to get rid of all the mirrors! Sounds like there us a silver lining though - all that extra grandchild story time and the excellent care you're getting.
ReplyDeleteI recently had to get a new travel document too and the photo is horrifying but I needed to complete the process so there I am, a scared old hag, as you put it, ready to travel the world if it will have me. Impaired mobility makes one feel very frail, but what resources of people and solutions you have around you. But please don’t hop! Use the scooter. Enjoy the grandchild time.
ReplyDelete