I didn’t really enjoy my college course in Milton, but these lines from “Paradise Lost” stuck.
“The mind is its own place and in itself can create a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”
Larry Johnson lives three houses up the street. We discovered that he had esophogeal cancer five months ago and was on chemotherapy. He had a feeding tube because he was unable to eat. He went into remission, then discovered that he had developed pneumonia. Back to the hospital, then to a care facility. I called him. He said he was looking forward to the time he could get out of bed and go to the bathroom, that he had to rely on nurses to clean him in bed. He made that step, then he came home and was able to do much more, including walking around his garage, take short steps, circling it a couple of times, before climbing back to bed. I visited him, and we talked about the feeding tube. He said, “I look at it this way, David. I haven’t had to floss since November!”
Brilliant.
Infirmities are inevitable. How we respond to them is a choice. Here’s one way.
Who we are is partly defined by how we respond. Putin was surprised to find that Ukrainians would lay down their lives to fight him, grandmothers with AR-15s, young women celebrating a recent wedding. Many who fled came back to fight, knowing that they would likely be killed.
It is so in lesser ways, too, as it was with me yesterday morning at 8:00 at Tilden Park, where a misstep caused me to fracture my distal fibula (break my left ankle) and sent me hurtling headfirst into the gravel alongside Canon Drive. Fortunately, there was a ranger nearby who was able to take me home. After that, an x-ray, a confirmed fracture. and this, the boot.
Warning: Graphic Image. Not suitable for children.
Did it hurt? Yes. Does it still hurt? Yes. How long will I have to wear it? Perhaps six weeks or so. Do I have to wear it to bed? Yes. Can I take it off to shower? Yes. Can I walk with it on? Yes, to a limited degree. Because it’s about two inches higher than my bare right foot I have a strap-on lift that I can put on my right shoe to make them equal.
The old right shoe. Hey, I’m saving on laundry by only wearing one sock at a time.
How should I treat it? R.I.C.E. rest, ice, compression, and elevation. So how am I dealing with it? So far, okay. I slept last night. I’m enjoying the rain this early Saturday morning. I’ll have to change my life for a while, and I won’t be able to hike, walk distances, work in the yard, volunteer at the shelter. A lot of reading, guitar-playing, Rummikub with Jadyne. I asked the doc, “What can I do?” He replied, “Work on your abs.” Stay tuned. This is, in so many ways, a work in progress.
To echo Larry Johnson, though, this 5’6” man is now 5’8”. I’m tall!
P.S. Jadyne noted that Larry, my neighbor, has his wife Janet taking care of him. Henry has Kathleen. Anthony (across the street) has his wife, Farrah, watching out for him. Guillermo, another neighbor, fell and has a huge lump on his head. His wife, Davi, is in LA. He texts Jadyne three times a day to confirm that he’s okay. Two years ago Greg was in a near fatal medical situation. Sean was there. What is it with all these men and their infirmities? And what is it with these women who, unlike the Russian battleship, keep the boat from sinking?