I'm standing at the threshold of a new year that I never thought I'd live to see.
I'm not anticipating it with enthusiastic eagerness or unrealistic expectations. Instead, I'm facing it with timid trepidation and justifiable fear.
Six months of hospitalization and physical therapy have taught me to rely on gratitude for every precious day - - rather than unreliable long-term optimism. Facing the prospect of an uncharted new year - at this fragile time in my life - is too intimidating for me to cope with.
My long-term medical incarceration also taught me patience, humility, tolerance, gratitude, and enormous respect for the preciousness of every moment. I had no improbable illusions about the future.
When I was discharged from physical therapy and went home on November 20th, it was most likely assumed that I was miraculously cured and on the way to a full recovery.
This is far from grim reality. I'm still plagued with the threat of cancer and the unrelenting persistance of heart failure. I'm physically weak and mentally ravaged.
I've lost my ability to walk and am inflicted with the humiliation of having to rely on a walker and a wheelchair (although, admittedly, I often attempt walking without those contraptions). I also have other unpleasant medical issues that I never mentioned on my blog.
My future is very uncertain.
My outlook for any semblance of recovery is unknown.
I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm merely revealing raw reality.
Perhaps I'm underrating my strength, endurance, and uncanny ability to overcome obstacles. I've always been tainted with an unrealistically low opinion of myself. I went through a journey of hell that many would find intolerable to endure. I survived the doctor's prediction that I would die.
My biggest fear is that it's not over. There is no definitive resolution.
Am I too pessimistic? Too self-centered? Too focused on the "what-if" syndrome?
Who knows. As usual, I'm merely thinking out loud while allowing you to eavesdrop.
I want to mention that every one of you has had a positive part in sustaining my endurance and survival. Your comments, thoughts, advice, and encouragement have buoyed my spirit and kept me going. I am eternally grateful.
My sincerest hope is that the new year will bless you with peace, good health, and all positive things.
Jon
A pic of me on the front porch, taken about two years ago before I was sick.
Thank you for your sharing what you're experiencing. (I was afraid earlier this morning you'd taken it down.) Without going into unnecessary detail, I felt led to share this with Tom -- who's (mental and physical) condition right now is precipitous. He admitted to having the same feelings; unfortunately, they're often accompanied by anger. Anyway. This isn't about me. I just want you to know how much I appreciate your candor; your friendship. Please, don't go anywhere! (*hopeful smile*)
ReplyDeleteMyra, I'll stay as long as I can *smile*. I have my moments of anger, but mostly I'm plagued with absolute frustration. I can understand Tom's feelings.
DeleteI endured enough stress and anguish last year. I'm dreading the thought of having more.
Your porch is fabulous. It's probably too cold to sit out there now, but something to look forward to. Life is short, even for those who get a hundred years or, like Methuselah, 900.
ReplyDeleteThere is a reason for your life, Jon. You are not here by accident and you certainly are not still here by accident. For some reason, here you are. Here we all are. For now.
It's too cold to sit out there in the winter and too buggy in the warm months.
DeleteIt never seems that life gives us enough time. Time is precious and somehow ellusive. I'll stay here as long as I'm allowed...
Having gone through the journey of hell, you have every right to your feelings. My hope is they don't overwhelm you, not regularly anyway. To repeat what has been said before, you are a miracle, you are alive. Maybe not well, but alive. You are walking, albeit with a walker, but walking. You are home. You are strong, you came out of hell. Please keep writing your thoughts and feelings, it's important. Yes, please don't go anywhere.
ReplyDeleteWhat you have just written is right on target and it means a lot to me.
DeleteTaking one day at a time and being grateful for what I have is extremely important.
Thanks, Sandra.
I've been so worried that you might have got too discouraged with blogger to continue. So glad you're still posting.
ReplyDeleteYes, no sense in false optimism. Dealing with your reality is much smarter and in fact, healthier! I'm glad you're letting us keep you company in your life. And I wish you more strength as you go.
I suppose I'm addicted to blogging, which provides a creative emotional outlet. And the bonus is that caring people like yourself keep me going.
ReplyDeleteI've always been a realist - - which can occasionally be an annoyance, but more often it's an advantage.
Thanks, Liz.
I'm glad you're continuing to post on your blog, it provides many of us with a boost in our daily humdrum. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI too have CHF, and alas, I know the progression of the disease. I treated it for many years. I try not to dwell on it, it does no good.
I hope we can stay around as long as possible. Because, what else is there? I think of the oft-quoted Andrew Marvel poem, "To his Coy MIstress", particularly these lines:
But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near
So, let's make it last, eh Jon?
I agree that it's best not to dwell on it. I knew I had heart trouble since I was eighteen and it didn't bother me. All the other things I'm presently dealing with is frustrating - - but we are indeed fortunate to still be around.
DeleteI like the quote, I never heard it before.
This is Dorothy, not anonymous, and when I looked for a post today, Jon, there was a No Posts message and I feared you had really given blogger the heave-ho. Whew was I relieved to find later it was just a glitch. You are always honest in sharing your condition and how you feel about the situation and while there may be nothing your blogger friends can do in the physical sense, we are hear in the emotional sense…to listen, care, and give support and encouragement. Hopefully all of these help. Of course there will be those days when you want to just give in and chuck it all, but please don’t and instead vent here.
ReplyDeleteI always get extremely frustrated with all the blogger glitches, but after I vent my anger I always return. I've recently started taking screen shots as I'm writing my posts, in a desperate way to save them in case they vanish.
DeleteI am (unfortunately?) addicted to blogging.
Blogging is my emotional therapy and my blogger friends provide my emotional strength.
Many thanks, Dorothy.
You may be progressing more than you realize. Progress sometimes happens in such small increments it is not evident until you look back at where you were a week ago, a month ago or even just yesterday. I spent a month in a wheel chair after breaking my ankle. When I started physical therapy I was surprised how much muscle tone and strength I lost in that short time. So, I can only imagine how far you have to go to regain some of your previous physical abilities. I concentrated on small victories. They mount up pretty quickly when you don’t allow yourself get overwhelmed, but celebrate small accomplishments. Walking with a walker is still walking. Sitting in a wheelchair is not lying in a bed. Being able to do things for yourself, no matter how long it takes, is still better than having to rely on someone else. You have come farther than you probably thought you would. I think you will still regain a lot.
ReplyDelete2024 will be a good year. Keep going.
Carolyn Green
(Still anonymous, apparently)
Yes! I desperately need a feline friend!
ReplyDeleteWhen I first came home I foolishly thought I'd be doing all the things I used to do. I didn't want to realize that six months in bed (at the hospital and at rehab) completely depleted my muscle strength. I know that I should be eternally greatful for what I can do now. In retrospect, the small accomplishments are great advances.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Carolyn, for your very apt input.
Miraculously, I'm able to do most of the work around the house - including cooking. I have difficulty standing on my feet and I tire very easily, but somehow I manage. I actually have to force myself.
ReplyDeleteIn my frustration I keep forgetting that I'm making progress. I should remember there was a time when I was too weak to get out of a hospital bed.
Thanks for your encouragement, Jo.
A belated Happy New Year, Jon! I too am glad that you are continuing to blog; I appreciate your honesty and your sense of humor. I'm in somewhat the same place as you are, though I arrived by a different route. I am dependant on a walker, crutches, or a wheelchair depending on the situation, but I use the walker at home. I definitely understand the slow moving to get things done and being unable to stand for any length of time. But look at how much you have accomplished! As you keep trying, you will get stronger. I try to focus on the things that I CAN do, and when you do that, you'll find that there are so many things you can do, even if more slowly and in a different way than you could before. I wish you the very best for 2024; you deserve it! Your lone liberal reader knows that you can achieve great things in small steps!
ReplyDeleteThe years fly by so quickly that it's difficult to comprehend that another new one is here. Even though I'm back home, I feel a lot of frustration. It's very difficult to experience such a radical change in my life-style - - not being able to do all the things I used to do. It is encouraging, however, when I manage to accomplish things. I tire very easily but keep pushing myself forward. At this point I don't want to fall behind.
DeleteBTW you're not my only liberal reader *smile*. Friendship is more important that politics.
Thanks for your input, Jackie.
I meant to say "than", not "that".
DeleteJon, I find you an inspiration as I, myself, have been going through (and still am) a continuous "it just never ends" and "the hits just keep on coming". Hence, I have had neither the time nor the heart to blog for a few more weeks or so although I am trying my best to get back to things and hopefully I will be able to soon.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry I have not been around much as of late but please know that I have still been thinking of YOU!
All my best to you always,
Kim
I've been thinking about you a lot, Kim, but I was hesitant to contact you (email) because I knew you were so plagued with problems. During these past few months we've both been immersed in our own private hell. I hope that somehow things will improve for you soon.
ReplyDeleteI can understand why you don't feel like blogging. I blog to express my pent-up emotions.....and give updates about my nightmare health issues.
When I came home from rehab, I was looking forward to see my cat Bosco - - who was with my cousin for the six months I was gone.
Unfortunately he died before I could see him. He had extremely bad respiratory infections his whole life and they couldn't save him.
I was SO shocked and heartbroken. He was the only light left in my life and it's very lonely without him.
Anyway, take care and keep in touch. Hugs!
I remember how you were looking forward to seeing Bosco again. On top of everything else, how sad that he passed just as you returned. My heart goes out to you .
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jenny. Bosco was one of the sole reasons why I wanted to go home.
DeleteI don't know if you will see this comment or not. I read the last entry you put here and then took away, because I follow all my blogs on Feedly, which shows me what you wrote even though you took it down. I'm wondering why you didn't leave it; it was a perfectly fine entry, I thought. I do hope you get a cat. I think dogs and cats are preferable to most humans as friends. If I had your email, I would have connected with you that way, so I would know you read it. This is all I could think of to do. I am praying for you.
ReplyDelete