In many ways it was a good weekend. I walked about 9-10 miles yesterday, including work on the Step Mill at the gym, and a good bout with the rowing machine. I didn’t walk the fastest I have, but the pace wasn’t bad.
But one of the reasons I was walking was because I’m not driving yet. Yesterday was one of those days I would just as soon have driven in for my workout, and focused on working hard at the gym. I’ll be able to drive when someone else says it’s okay for me to drive.
It’s difficult dealing with the various limitations placed on me. Whether or not I agree that some of these are a good idea, it feels lousy not feeling free to do things as I was able to before the accident. These include driving, running, and to some extent working.
Sometimes as I feel ready to do more, people express concern that I’m overreaching. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. The point is, no person feels good about defending their ability to do things they’re confident they can (or should) do.
From the other person’s standpoint, it makes sense to double-check whether I’m ready to go back to work, walk ten miles, do hill training, or other things. But what I’m realizing is that once you’ve been laid up for a while, you get to establish whether or not you’re ready to do things like this again. It usually doesn’t feel good doing this.
Related to this is the feeling of dependence on others for things I’m used to being able to do for myself – like driving someplace. There have been some very humbling moments for me, in which I’ve had to rely on others to do things for me that I’d just as soon do for myself. When I was in the hospital, that included needing help to take a shower, or needing supervision while I walked to the bathroom. That’s a level of assistance I’d not imagined needing for at least another forty-five years.
I’m looking forward to things being completely normal again.
Intellectually I know I’m very fortunate to be alive, and to have recovered as quickly and completely as I have. Emotionally, I’m definitely still processing what it all means. That’s all understandable, but that doesn’t mean it feels good.
Impatience is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it motivates me to test my limits. On the other hand, it makes me hyper-aware of those limits.