Well, Wednesday began well. I slept well through the night, and this morning I’m feeling much stronger in my back. I am walking upright and just with a cane. I still must sit to do anything, but I have the motivation to do simple chores that I can do sitting down. I feel much better because the pain is decreasing each day.
I went into the clinic to arrange for an MRI and to the village to do some shopping. It was, of course, another stunning day. The heat is predicted to break on Friday. Next week’s temperatures will be in the mid-to-low twenties and all living things will be relived.
I have a new strategy about dog poop. (With Sosa visiting every day, there’s more poop to remove.) I let it dry and then I use my tongs to pick it up so that I needn’t bend over.
I anticipated Dan arriving to take me to get the pavers, but he never showed up. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m in no hurry to get it done.
I got a great email from my friend, Cathy, who has a history with sciatica. It was great to read her advice and her story because it gave me hope and confidence about my future. I was very worried about being permanently hobbled, but now I’ve heard sciatica stories from people, all of whom recovered. Phew.
My friend Beth has long lobbied for hiring. People to do things, and I always explained that although I complained about the drudgery of the work sometimes, I loved doing it. I loved the exercise I got, I loved being engaged with the outdoors, I loved the results of my work, and I loved having something constructive to do.
But there’s another aspect of hiring people for me: I rather not deal with strangers. I find it very stressful, because if I don’t feel safe with a person, I hate having to tell them I don’t want to work with them. My speech gets dreadful when I try.
Jay is coming to help me do some transplanting today. And Dan is going to help me get the pavers on site. I’ll ask people to help me with the pavers, and I can do all the work with the soil on my hands and knees (and kneepads). It’ll feel good to finish that job. The moss Pete gave me is taking to the soil around the pavers I have already put down. Come Fall, the walkway is going to look mighty fine.
I’m not doing any weeding either. I don’t want to do hours of bending. I don’t think I’m going to do anything for the rest of the Summer. I’m going to putter. I plan to keep moving around doing little things that I can do without causing any pain. And I’ll read. Thank God for murder mysteries. I’m in the final stretch of Donna Leon’s 30 book series about Commissario Guido Brunetti.
I’m using my deck now that it’s so nice a place to be. I love just stepping outside a few steps and sitting in my newly stained chairs, each one has a side table. It’s an idea place to sit with guests who drop by, rather than down in the garden at the dining table. Where we sit is right outside the door to the kitchen.
The most frightening thing about the sciatica is that it made ponder where I’d go if I felt I could now longer function happily here at Pinecone Park. A sad, sad move that will be for me. I have pets; I’d have to shed tons of stuff. But where would I go? The thought of living in a tower of strangers is abhorrent to me. I’ll have to find somewhere with thick cement walls.
I can’t imagine living in Vancouver again. I can’t see myself anywhere. I want to stay here. The only thing that I can think of to do, is to get a condo in West Vancouver where I have friends. I hope I can stay here for the rest of Sheba’s life though.