While son Kyle was away at college and then at a job hours from us, people would ask, “How is Kyle doing?” We made a point of telling him about these encounters with folks who care about him, saying, “So-and-so asked how you are doing,” to which he would replay, “So, how am I doing?” It may have been a rhetorical question, but we took it to mean, “How do you think I’m doing?” or “What did you tell them?”
Since my surgery, lots of folks have been asking Dave how I’m doing. At the end of the day, when I’m always exhausted and sometimes discouraged, he tells me that I’m doing great. One evening this week, while I had my feet up in the recliner, and Dave, willingly displaced from his recliner, sat with his feet down, he got a call from his brother. Recognizing the number, he answered, “Hi, Joe,” and I heard Joe’s version of the question: “Is Lisa dancing yet?” As Dave left the room, phone in hand, I muted Wheel of Fortune so I could hear his answer. So, how am I doing?
I’ve reported to friends and family that I’m getting better each day, accomplishing some new little task, feeling stronger. All of those tasks, though they’ve been done routinely for most of my life, feel monumental in the weeks since surgery. Making my own oatmeal, flossing my teeth while standing in front of a mirror, getting my left shoe on with a long shoe horn, being able to put on both shoes and socks without any tools, showering when no one else is home (today’s accomplishment). Moving forward a couple of steps with a walker, walking from my hospital room to the gym with a walker, going into the mall, a restaurant, or church with a walker. Learning to walk with a cane, being able to walk around my house some without putting the cane to the floor, climbing a few steps.
Getting hot food to the table has been a challenge. Challenge met!
My home health care therapist exhorted me to think about progress made from week to week, not day to day, foretelling that there would be days when I would feel tired and sore, unable to accomplish much. He remembered to ask me, “How are you doing compared to a week ago?” I could always answer, “Much better,” and he confirmed my improvement by analyzing my exercises and timing my movements.
With the home therapy ended, and my husband confident enough in my strength to work all day in the office, I’m trying to spend my days at home well. Working hard to get stronger, and resting enough to heal. On this Friday, I can report that I’m having one of those days of fatigue and a bit of frustration. I expected it. I earned it. But I don’t enjoy it.
This has been a good week. On Tuesday, a friend brought lunch over and we had a good talk. On Wednesday, the sky was bright blue all day and I carefully made my way out onto the deck to sit in the sunshine, breathing the early spring air, listening to the various birds’ songs, flipping through a magazine while moving back and forward in our glider, a piece of furniture that I could not enjoy last summer when the yet-to-be-discovered tumor was pressing on my nerves. And Thursday was nothing short of miraculous.
I’m on our deck, what I call my “favorite room.”
On Wednesday, after two months of depending on my hardworking husband and son to do the grocery shopping and cooking, I pulled out a couple of recipes, considering making a side dish for dinner, and found that I didn’t know what was in the pantry and couldn’t bend down and reach in for the ingredients. So on Thursday, after soaking up the energy from the sunshine and sleeping well, I decided to start a pantry overhaul. It began with just getting the boxes of coffee closer to the coffee maker. Then I gathered all of the pasta and rice products onto one shelf. Finally, I pulled out everything that is used in baking and sorted the flours, sugars, etc. on the countertop. And I did all of this reaching, lifting, turning, walking and sorting with relative ease and very little use of my cane!
I was so energized by that project, one that Dave is very willing to help with, but one that I felt needed my planning and preparation, that I deemed it worthwhile, even if it meant I’d be tired today. And I am. But, am I better today than I was last week? Without a doubt. I’m not exactly dancing yet, but one of these weeks, the answer will be “Yes, she is!”
Watching a woodpecker have his lunch.
And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.
Philippians 1:6