[2020-09-06] Physical energy
Following yesterday's return of mental energy, today I enjoyed a renaissance of physical energy.
I blow-dried my hair. I helped out in the kitchen, not once but twice, making scones with my daughter at lunch and kale salad at supper. (I mostly sit at the table while she brings ingredients to me to assemble.) And I moved around more than any other day since the surgery: 1400 steps.
And my mental energy continued. Last night, I started reading a book that a friend sent to me—Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens—and could hardly put it down. I finished it this evening.
This is how I measure success these days. In slow baby steps rather than brisk strides.
For those who worry that I'm going too fast, I can assure you that I am listening to my body, and I am still getting lots of help from my family. I am not in a hurry to heal or to reach self-imposed milestones. Yesterday, for example, I thought I could cut back Tylenol and Advil to four times per day (I had ditched the Dilaudid the day before). But I couldn't. The pain was too persistent. Today, by contrast, I reached that goal and have had even less pain than yesterday.
My next goal, which may take some days yet to reach, is to take a few tentative steps beyond my home. Perhaps a stroll on a short path that runs behind my house.
It's funny to me how easily I have shifted what I define as a successful day.
Progress is relative to where I was. If I am better than—or even the same as—yesterday, I conclude that my healing is advancing. And I remain hopeful that tomorrow will be even better than today.
This is all good practice for ageing. In the years ahead, my body may work differently. My mind may be less sharp. But I hope that I will show more love, empathy and caring—influenced, in no small measure, by my current challenges.
