I continue to improve, albeit in very small increments. My husband is my biggest cheerleader, and I believe that it’s his encouragement that propels me forward. When he notices how well I’m doing, he remarks on it, and even though I still need his help, he allows me to try out my independence. He read me accurately last week when I noticed that he was completely healed from his diverticulitis bout. He said it must seem unfair that he got well so quickly while I go in the opposite direction. It’s true – I was a bit jealous, but I got over it.
Again, I survived Saturday being alone. In the morning, I said I thought I might try moving around the downstairs as I used to do. But by the time my husband left, I felt panicky, and I just stayed in my one small area. I just need a bit more confidence, and then I’ll be able to return to my former ways. It’s not a big deal, and I have to convince myself that I can handle it. Over a pizza dinner that evening, my ‘motivational speaker’ told me to try a little extra each day, and before long I’d be back to my old self.
Yesterday, I decided to go to church. My husband helped on Saturday night by getting my preferred outfit together. It was coolish, so I could wear a fall jacket in earth tones. It took me for-e-ver to get ready, though. I started early since I suspected I might struggle. I even put on makeup to feel like myself again. While we were driving over to church, I tried to convince myself that this was a major move. I had not been outside nearly the entire summer, and I had only gone to church twice the whole time. That’s just not me. I always made the effort, no matter how rotten I felt. Once we went inside, I realized that I was too exhausted to do the whole getting out of the wheelchair into the pew and doing all the sit/stand/kneel maneuvers. So, I stayed in the chair and we remained in the back section. This was a wise move.
All my buds came over to see me and tell me they were glad I was back. Even the priest gave me a separate blessing! I didn’t try fumbling with the hymnal, but I still sang. I was able to transfer back into the car with no problems, and I felt very accomplished. I was tired when we came home, but it was a manageable fatigue. I was buoyed by the fact that I did, indeed, get out!
Today, I’ll take it easy and just do small things. I realize these are mere baby steps, but the fact that I didn’t give up gives me the incentive to continue!