Its 5:46 a.m., Ron left 45 minutes ago to clean the church. And sadly for me the kiddos have been making sounds in their rooms. Such is life.
I miss being me. I mean my mind is still on the most part how it was, grasp for words at times but I speak and think cognitively. But my body isn’t like it was.
Even sleeping is hard because I have to maneuver to move. I use the bars on the headboard to help me turn. And have to be careful laying on my left side as my shoulder has to lay a certain way.
The arm and leg are numb and heavy. Like having 2 boat anchors attached to your body. I miss hopping out of bed, walking to the bathroom and taking a bubble bath while reading a book. I can’t hold a book and turn the pages at the same time.
I miss making it to the bathroom in a normal time frame and not tottering down the hallway, praying you will make it in time. I miss a bladder and bowels that work as they are suppose too.
I miss non elastic waisted pants. I still can’t do my jeans alone (insert sad face). And I miss my shoes. Miss my boots and heels and cute dresses. Flats with laces are what I am limited to wear and some of those just don’t quite look right.
Maybe I am a bit vain. But I like to look fashionable and professional. Now I feel a bit on the dumpy side. Need my mojo back. Lol.
I miss not having to feel as I am double my age. I can compare my health and problems to a lot of those who are 70 and 80. I was even in a conversation about canes and aches with someone at a restaurant.
Yes I am whining. Yes I am on the pity pot. Every once in awhile I am entitled. So neer neer. I will doze back off and awake in a better mood.