I subscribe to several channels on YouTube that feature fellows who are renovating old French or Italian homes and revitalizing their properties. They work hard all day every day, and I do so little. Mind you, I have health issues that keep me from being like them, but still, I feel much stronger now that Tezspire is in effect in my body.
So … yesterday I got out my painting supplies, and I repainted the floor of the ensuite bathroom in my bedroom. I loved doing the work; I loved passing time constructively instead of sitting on my missing ass and watching YouTube videos. I’ve resolved ensure that every waste bin that I put out for pick up is full. I want to rid my closets and the studio of everything I don’t use. And since the garbage is being picked up on Monday, this weekend I will focus on filling the waste container to the brim.
I took Sheba in for grooming at 9:00 and I picked her up at 10:45. On the way home, I returned the crutches I got from our island Ambulance Society. I would use them more, were they not so painful for my arthritic hands. I’ve learned to walk with my left foot facing left when I move it. I twist my leg to make my foot face left, and I walk like that. My bone spurs don’t hurt as much when I walk that way.
When we got back from the Ambulance Society storeroom, I fed everyone lunch and then I got busy painting the bathroom floor and touching up the cupboards in the kitchen. Then—and I can’t believe this—I vacuumed for the second time yesterday morning. There were more needles where Sheba had been resting, and I tracked in a lot fetching paint, brushes and wood.
Finally, at 13:00, I had a fifteen-minute nap before applying another coat of paint in places and then, using the leaf blower, I rid the deck and the courtyard paving stones that lie between the deck and the shed of the accumulated Fir needles. Now I can fetch wood without tracking so many needles into the house. When that was done, I did some work on the compost and fed the birds. That was a mistake. It brought a lot of birds to the feeder and that attracted a killing machine—a Cooper’s Hawk. My next accomplishment was washing the cupboard doors and drawer fronts. And my last chore was fixing some door handles. By then, it was 15:00 and so Her Highness and I went to Elder Cedar to trail walk. I wore a pair of Jay’s shoes. They are a size or size-and-a-half larger than what I wear, and I think they make walking easier because they don’t press against my heel. As we walked, I relaxed, chuffed about all the work I’d done. And today, I’ll likely do more. I have plans.
Epiphany: I’m having trouble reading and, as I’ve written several times, it’s because I get restless. I stop focusing on the book and I think about something I could do—on my feet and moving around. I’ve two thoughts about my need to move around. One is that one of the eleven drugs I take by mouth is affecting me this way. The other is that Tezspire has my lungs providing more oxygen and, therefore, more energy.
Sam is the person who corresponds with me from the asthma clinic at St. Paul’s. She’s my doctor’s assistant. She was the person who asked me about my will and gave me statistics on longevity with fibrosis. (I did not make sense to me, what she told me, because there are degrees of fibrosis.) Regardless, fibrosis is what killed Jay. He lived six months from his diagnosis. But no one knew why his lungs failed as they did. In my case, they know it’s asthma, and there are many treatments and medicines for treatment of asthma.
The legacy of Sam’s emails was that I was living with a sense of being someone who was dying. I knew that Sam’s statistics pre-date the introduction of biomedicines like Tezspire. Still, I had a slight doomsday outlook, However, I don’t anymore because a am more active and I do our walks comfortably now. And with my house so clean and all the closets organized, it’s quite exciting to live in Pinecone Park.
And I have a beautifully cleaned fridge. Life is good. But the best, and last recent change in my life, is the change in my eating habits. I eat a lot less than I used to do. A lot less. But most importantly, I think about everything I eat. About once a week, I’ll eat quite a bit (for me; not in general), and then I get back to normal habits. I’ve become quite a modest eater, and I feel great. If I feel hungry, I eat, but I only have a little of whatever it is, and I might eat less at dinner.
I’m quite thrilled by this change. I like not having a pot belly. And I still enjoy going out to friends’ places, or to a restaurant, and I have whatever I want. But I don’t over-indulge, and now I sometimes pass on dessert.
Aren’t I perfect?
It all feels good to me because everything makes me feel healthier that I have done. Plus, I’ve got Tezspire, plus my HIV drugs and heart drugs and psychiatric drugs, all keeping me going and having a mighty good time!
No comments:
Post a Comment