Update:
I am so glad for the warmer weather.
I hope that the snow and ice begins to disappear off of my driveway so
that I can regain my freedom. On Monday,
I had a hard time finding a place where my foot wouldn’t slip when I tried to
stand up. Karen actually had to move the
car to a different spot before I could safely transfer from my wheelchair to
the car. Getting out is just not worth
the risk of me slipping and injuring myself; so I’ve been staying home. It is hard after having a taste of freedom a
couple of weeks ago. Oh well, I know
that the ice and snow will soon be off my driveway. I just need to be patient.
Wearing the silicone liner for long periods of time isn’t a
problem. It is very comfortable and I
was told that very few people have trouble adjusting to it. When I take it off, my leg is rather gross
and sweaty; so I have to wash my leg with warm water and soap before I put my
shrinker sock back on. If my leg gets like
that when it is relatively cold outside, what will it be like this summer? Now I understand why all the instructions
tell you to wash your leg, and the inside of the silicone liner, etc. every
day. It won’t be hard to remember that
it needs to be done.
I’ve noticed that getting ready for bed and then getting ready for the
day both take longer now. I started my
routine earlier last night but the sleep monster was grabbing at me pretty hard
by the time I actually made it to bed.
Right now it feels like one minute I am wide awake and the next minute I
can’t keep my eyes open. The positive
thing is that I don’t lie in bed tossing and turning unable to get to sleep! “Good Nig...Zzzzz” and my head hits the
pillow. So far I’ve managed to get my
light turned off before I go to sleep; but it wouldn't surprise me if some morning
I wake up and find the lights on.
I found out that trying to squeeze your shoulder blades together when
you do other exercises must be an acquired skill. I feel very uncoordinated and
unsuccessful trying to do it right now.
I guess whatever I do will be better than nothing at all.
Last night I made “Mock Mash Potatoes.”
They are actually made with beans so there is no starch. I’ve had trouble with adding too much “Better
Than Bullion” to the recipe and they come out too salty tasting. Last night it happened again. What is going on? So I decided to make a note to myself in the
cookbook “Use ½ amount of bullion” or something like that. Just as I was about to write it in, I noticed
the recipe called for 1 Tsp. not 1 Tbl.
Now I get it! I’ve been putting
in a tablespoon of bullion instead of a teaspoon. What’s that like three times as much as
called for—no wonder they are so salty!
People who write cookbooks should spell the words out or only capitalize
Tablespoon and not teaspoon for use by the “measuring handicapped” (That’s what
I am—I even have one leg shorter than the other! So one leg doesn’t “measure up”). What is so hilarious is that there are two
other items marked the same exact way (Tsp.) and I’ve always read those as
teaspoons; but for some reason when I see bullion, I read tablespoon!?!
Thought for the Day:
My buddy Mel is feeling some better after his surgery, so our Elder
team will be gathering at his house on Wednesday morning for a meeting. It is rather strange how I feel when I
compare my situation to Mel’s. He’ll
never walk again. He will always be
wheelchair bound. I’ll be up and walking
soon with a prosthetic leg. I’ll need a wheelchair
only a small part of the time. At this
point, almost all of my old activities and hobbies are potentially possible for
me to regain. There will be some
limitations, but I’ll get many if not most of them back in some fashion. I know that I will never be able to take out
the trash or wash dishes ever again with my disability (Okay, I made that last
sentence up; but maybe I can sell it to my wife!). It may take me time to
acquire enough proficiency with my leg to do them; but I can look forward to a
time when it may be. My buddy Mel; not
so. Hopefully as he overcomes the pain issue he has been having, he will be
able to do more…but many things are gone and will remain gone forever.
I’ve got to say that it bothers me at times to think about these things. I feel almost guilty for where my life is
heading knowing that Mel cannot make that journey with me. Maybe that is how people feel when they look
at me. Although I fine with what has
happened and what I’ll be facing for the rest of my life; some people I know
seem to struggle with it all. They are
more upset with it than I have ever been.
I’ve accepted that this is God’s plan for my life and I am grateful to
be here at all and I get a second chance to enjoy life still. My life isn’t perfect; but it wasn’t perfect
before my amputation either. So why get
distraught over it all?
From what I can tell this is the same attitude that Mel has. Like me, I would guess that he has his
moments at times; but he has a very positive outlook overall. I’m glad that both of us have a faith in God
to rely upon and someone to turn to when we are not on top of everything. In my life, it really is a God thing. My attitude isn’t forced or contrived. I really am grateful and content (except that
I want winter to be over very badly).
But with Mel’s condition, it seems much more unfair. If it was temporary—OK; but a permanent
disability and limitations—that is so unfair.
So when I watch him work through these things with faith and integrity,
it inspires and encourages me. He has
told me that my attitude and outlook, inspires him; so we have a bit of a
perpetual motion machine going on here.
The only thing that I can cling to is my faith in God. If you stop and read through the bible, there
are numerous times when people are hurting or have witnessed a great tragedy
and they question God, “How long, oh Lord?”
As people we question things that don’t seem right. We struggle against injustice and things that
don’t seem fair. Why should good people or
young children have to struggle with trauma in their lives? Over and over again
God is questioned about these things.
The answer they are given doesn’t seem to satisfying until you think
about it. Most answers given are on the
lines of, “I am God.” What? How does that answer the problem of evil and
pain and suffering? “I am God.”
And finally it hits me. God is
infinite, I am finite. He is limitless;
I am very limited. He knows everything
down to the smallest detail; I know a few things moderately well—and most things
I barely understand. He is all-powerful,
all-loving, patient and merciful. All
that being said, even if God were to try to explain it to me—I would never be
able to comprehend what He was talking about.
It is enough to remember that He knows and that He is able. It isn’t exactly the answer I was hoping for—but
it is the answer I needed to hear.
Maybe nothing that I wrote makes any sense (or it seems rather
pointless); but I find trying to express my thoughts on paper very
therapeutic. “Hi! I am Steve…and I have a leg problem…” And the group answers in response, “Hi,
Steve!” Thanks for being there for me,
group!
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