Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit.

When I was quite young there was a bouncy song with this catchy chorus and we’d run around singing it. A long time ago, but it certainly stuck in my memory!  Incredibly silly song, with largely meaningless lyrics, but in a different context the meaning is significant.  

Today was an overall improvement.  There are several things that we can, should and will celebrate, within the confines of the existing reality.  I did some more walking, further than I’ve walked since surgery, and although my legs feel like overcooked spaghetti, they didn’t hurt.  They will strengthen

over time. The weakness is from lack of use over the past 3 weeks.  I’m surprised at how much time has passed since the day we started.  I’m happy with that.  Although, and this might be a shock, I’d like to do more. I received some sweet bread and pone, homemade by the talented Martha, Martha, Lynne, and my kitchen buddy slipped me an extra chicken sandwich!  I’m amazed at how much I like Cheerios cereal!  Really surprised by that…

I need to confess something, which will change the rest of this entry.

I’m angry and in pain. I thought I would use the bathroom by myself because everyone keeps saying that I should do more myself.  The first part was easy; I got in and I used it, so good   Then I tried to stand up and realized that my legs wouldn’t hold me. I rang the call button and my nurse came. She wanted to know why I was out by myself and she wheeled me in the commode back to the side of my bed. She asked  me to stand up and I said that my leg was weak. She said that she was supporting me, go ahead…So I tried. And my left leg just folded. You know how you see yourself falling in slow motion?  I felt myself heading for the floor. Although it felt like hours, I was immediately on the floor, gasping for breath and in agony.  She said that she needed help but she couldn’t leave me. Finally I said “just go. I’m not going anywhere “ and she went to find 3 other nurses. They wanted me to try to stand by myself and I said that was the problem. They got me back to bed, checked over by the doctor, medicated, and relaxing.  As a fallout of this, my bed rails are raised so I’m in bed jail, where I’m told I’m staying for the rest of the night.  No reprieve, no passing go.  The doctor and the other nurses were asking what happened, what caused the fall, and I remember saying that I tried to go on my own because I didn’t want to rely on anyone and I thought that I could be more independent.  As noble as that sounded, I think I was trying to have a temper tantrum on the level of my almost 3-year-old niece  

That was an unnecessarily dramatic way to be awake at 2am! I’ve managed to scare all the staff on duty, and woken the other occupants of my ward which was really not my intention.  I’ll have to write out, 100 times in my best handwriting:

“I must remember to ask for, wait for, accept and receive help.  I am human and fallible.  The team is here to help me get better and return home in good shape and by pushing too hard I will just make my life harder.”

 I’m trying to maintain consistency in my approach to things.  If I counsel someone to remain calm under pressure and to be in the moment not to hurt someone emotionally, then I should try to do the same.  I didn’t lash out, nor was I abusive. That’s a minimum level expected of me.  I should have not given into my pride and just waited for dhelp and all of this would have been avoided.  My entry would instead have talked about the other people who have impressed and awed me lately with their demonstrations of virtue, and we would all have been equally inspired by them.  We will come back to them tomorrow instead, and I’ll have to find another, apt, pithy Latin aphorism for a headline… all for the want of a touch of patience.  

As an addendum to all of this  I do not normally edit my blog entries except to ensure coherence.  I write directly, read through everything and then post.  Reflection comes as I write, which means that sometimes the contents are different from what they started as, but I think that my process lets me be honest and meditative.  I hope that it makes sense, opens up new pathways of thinking and above all, avoids being preachy or pretentious.  Today was different, because the initial outpouring was so incoherent that after 800 words I still couldn’t make sense of the description of my fall, let alone anything else.  So I condensed to just the facts, and then the story opened up to me.   What leapt out at me was the elements of my actions that precipitated the result of being in bed jail, so I’ll leave that as the focus.  Until tomorrow, I will practice asking and waiting for help.  And because it’s me, I’ll practice again.  Good night, and flights of angels sing thee through thy sleep!