Friday, July 7, 2023


I felt human yesterday as I left the house to water the gardens. Until yesterday, doing anything at all was hard and I felt depressed by the pain and being sidelined from my life. I had pain, but it wasn’t defeating. I got the watering done relatively painlessly, sitting on the chairs I have scattered around the yard.

Watering is all I must do. Yesterday was the first day I felt I could handle it. I still have constant pain, especially towards the end of the day, but I feel like myself again. I feel normal, but with an irritation. I no longer feel defined by pain and like “I” have disappeared.

Kevin, bless him, keeps coming by to walk Sheba in the early morning and late afternoon, and he takes her for a nice long forest walk. And I believe the pain pill I am taking is working. I worried about these pills, given how they can lead to addiction, but they work, and I have no inclination whatsoever to want them if I have no pain.

I don’t feel high from the drug. I feel more comfortable when I sit and when I lie down. I think my couch may have to go. It’s very old and saggy. I love it because its age and soften helps my living room feel like a comfy den. If this sciatic condition persists, I will have to get a much firmer couch because that’s where I watch TV.

I am very glad that I bought the new outdoor dining set. It has six chairs. Plus, I have the four beautifully restored chairs from the first set I bought. In total, I have 10 outdoor chairs, and right now they are spread around my yard so that I can water 90% of the gardens while sitting down.

At one point last night, I could not get up off a chair. My left leg was electric with pain and it would not support me. So, I just sat there for a while, pondering how I’d get around. After a few minutes, I tried again, and I was able to get up. I always have my cane and I need it; sometimes I use 2 canes when the pain is really bad. Depending on how things go, I may want a walker that can be a seat like my Dad used to have. I’ve cleared all the shelves of my travel mementos so that I can grab onto them as I move around the house. It’s a big change. There’s no way I’m going to be able to chop wood, I may have to hire someone to make the kindling I’ll need if things don’t improve.

I can’t move around much. I don’t like to stand or walk really. I see double watching TV and I can’t read the captions, and I have serious trouble speaking. I’m a man in decline. I live with a fear of ‘what’s next’. I can’t see myself, at present, using my lawn mower, weed whacker, rake, or shovel. I can’t finish my footpath. Big changes may be ahead.

Paula is coming on Saturday. I can. Hardly wait. She’s a sister, and I’m excited. Although I’m in pain much of the time, and barely able to get around, so far I haven’t had even a millisecond of sadness. I am blessed with positivism. But I wonder how I’ll be tomorrow, next week, next year.

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