Yesterday, I waa sure I had turned the corner. For the first time since that dreadful day in January when I lost half my guts, I managed to walk all the way around Blakeburn Lagoon, a man-made mini-lake right in the middle of Coquitlam, in which we've had some of our best wildlife sightings (including wild swans!). Yes, I got all the way around, I wasn't sore, I did not take a single dose of pain medicine, and I felt like I was back in the land of the living. . . and then today came.
I'm more achey and sore now than I've been in weeks. My right knee clanks and gives way on the stairs, and pain has extended both up and down: down my right leg, and up into my hip joint, which is screwed anyway with arthritis. We had to cancel all our plans for today, which were modest enough, but I just couldn't. So here I sit, feeling rotten in my body, but better in my soul.
On Saturday we had one of those incredibly enjoyable, fun family gatherings, which we get to do maybe three times a year. Ryan turned 19 years old, that chubby, dimpled little charmer - except he's now a tall, lean (and still dimpled) charmer, doing well at university, with his own bachelor pad (the entire downstairs of the house has been renovated, complete with private bathroom, so he can live as independently as possible while still living at home). This kid is so amazing, and has always had such an array of interests, from taikwondo to origami to gardening and (best of all!) cooking. To call it "cooking" is an understatement, as this kid is a gourmet chef and baker who turned out a professional-level Buche de Noel at Christmas. One of his birthday gifts was a sourdough starter kit, and I want to be there when he tries it out. I gave him a personalized chef's apron with his picture on it, making tacos in Mexico. (Unfortunately, I had to crop Shannon out of the picture!)
Saturday was one of those blissful days when everything seemed worthwhile, even possible, but today, not so much. I know I am guilty of overdoing it. I know I'm wrong to think I've "turned the corner" and can just go back to all my usual activites. I can't. Even stairs can defeat me and ruin my day. I refuse to be trapped upstairs, as I was for several weeks, or trapped downstairs, which was even worse. But if I want to get up or down, there's a price to pay.
I don't know what the rest of the week will be like, but at least I have blissful occasions like this (all too rare, unfortunately, as the grandkids reach adulthood). May they continue, because if they don't, I am not sure I can make this life journey any more. Time for me to quit?
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