Many of my blogs are about our travels. I really like to write about the places we visit.
However, since December, I've been on a different kind of journey - a spiritual and a physical one.
On December 23rd, I was doing an ordinary, daily task - feeding the horse. Because it was a bright moonlit night and I was feeling good, I walked up to the barn rather than driving up with the car (which I usually do because it gives me light to see what I'm doing.) Gambler was acting a little edgy as I put the feed in his trough. And then . . . in a quick moment in time . . . he was in my space . . . I was falling . . . I was looking up at the roof of the barn, flat on my back.
When I fall, I tend to lay still for a few moments, to let unexpected pain sensations die down to a dull roar so I can access if I've just gotten the wind knocked out of me or if I am truly injured. While I lay there making these accessments, I noticed that Gambler was over by the fence, nowhere near his trough and grain, head down. I brought myself to a sitting position and Gambler immediately got on to what was most important in his mind . . . dinner!
I pushed myself up to a standing position and truly went OOOEEEYYY-OUWEEEYY all the way home. My wrist hurt and my back muscles were most upset with me. But I was happy to have gotten back to the house on my own steam.
A trip the next morning to minor emergency gave me a wrist brace for a hairline fracture and muscle relaxants for the back.
Within a few days, the back pain had dulled and I thought I was well on the road to recovery. With each passing day, movement was better, the wrist was doing well. I was in good spirits. And I started the year with ambitious plans of getting many things done both on a personal level and a professional level.
January 6th was a particularly productive day. I worked at my desk all day, happy with what I was getting done. But at the end of the day, my back started speaking to me. A visit to the hot tub didn't dull the increasing discomfort. By the next morning, I knew another trip to the doctor was in order.
X-rays showed deterioration from L-1 down. That didn't surprise me a lot because I had fractured L-1 when I turned 40. Falling through your ceiling from the attic to the ground floor is not a prudent thing to do. Physical therapy was ordered and I went gladly and with optimism.
The first few weeks were painful. I hobbled when I walked. I kept up with much of my routine, but even short distances seemed excruciatingly long. However, if I had responsibilities, I made sure I fulfilled them. Other things had to be put on the back burner. We bought a new heating pad and we already had a good ice pack. I alternated heat and cold. We used our inverter so that I could drive to and from my obligations with the heating pad. Fortunately, most of my responsibilities could be done sitting which I could do with minimal discomfort. I was doing well with therapy, but the one area that I couldn't make work was walking 15 minutes a day . . . Standing or walking even a short period of time left my body demanding that it was time for me to sit.
By the end of February, I was thinking longingly of the things I could do before the fall in December. It seemed such a long time and far away.
