Today was an absolutely beautiful late fall day in CT. The sky was blue and clear. It was jacket weather at its best, with a brisk wind blowing late leaves off the trees, up and around, through the air, to send them scuttling across the ground. Everywhere there were small, dry piles of leaves to scuff through, and the good smell of newly fallen leaves whirled across the neighbors lawn and down to the Thames, which looked blue and cold. It was truly amazing.
Today was also the day my PMD, Dr. D.(the one I like) told me gently that, yes, I am now truly totally disabled by peripheral neuropathy, heart disease and diabetes. I had asked, I was pretty sure what he would say, but it was still hard to hear. Despite it all-the pain, the meds, the unsteady gait, the loss of feeling in a lot more than just hands and feet, the problems with joints and muscles, the angina, the depression AND all the ongoing problems from the fall at work-despite it all I harbored a secret hope that I could somehow, somewhere go back to a productive working life.
It's not going to happen.
In fact, said Dr.D., he'd have considered me at least partially disabled after the bypass surgery in '94. He wasn't my doctor then, but I know the ones I had at the time did not give me 10 years to live, so I've beaten a lot of odds already. And I am grateful for these years. I am also grateful for any time I have left, and will somehow come around to seeing today's revelation as some sort of gift, too. Eventually. I have no doubt.
But not right now. I'm still sort of looking for the gift that people keep telling my will come from my fall, and that was over 15 months ago.
As he was saying yes to my question, I began to well up. I let the tears fall, slow tears, not sobbing or hysterics, just sorrow sliding down my face and onto my shirt, while I tried hard to listen to what he was saying. He talked a bit about the neurologist's report on the electro-stimulation test thingy I had done last summer, and lab results, and how he wished I could have been so pro active 10 to 15 years ago, because I'm real good at it now. He was not patronizing or overly protective, he just told me what he believes, and all the time, I just knew what he was saying was true. And felt relieved, even as the tears continued to flow.
Part of the journey is over.
Oh, I'm not giving up by any means. I'll find a neurologist, I'll continue to work on my arm and shoulder, I'll keep looking for the next orthopedic surgeon, I'll continue to struggle to self advocate, I'll deal with the pain and the legal ramifications, and money issues, and continuing depression et al.
But I need to take time to float for a while, to lie in my gentle river, cool under the sun dappled trees and let go of worry and stress. I'll chant :
We all come from the Goddess/ and to Her we shall return/ like a drop of rain/ flowing to the ocean.
and be free for a while.