Saturday, July 1, 2017

Walking and what it meant to me....


Walking is something i can't do. I'm stuck in a wheelchair. I feel like a big part of my life has been taken away from me. Damn this stroke. Something i used to take for granted is missing from my life and i really want to walk again. I would walk for miles; i used to be so active. Now i'm just a shadow of what i was. Things really can't get much worse than this. The wheelchair is electric and means i can move about a bit. It's no subtitute for walking though. There are so many people whu cao walk and don't realise how lucky they are. They really don't.

What else can they do to me to make my life worse than it is? I have one hand that works (which is how i'm able to type this) and somwhere, someone is worse off than me. It's hard to believe. They must be going through hell if they are. I've thought about dying and how much relief that would mean to me. Then i've thought "no!" I can do this. I can live with the pain. Not being able to walk is only an inconvenience when you look at the bigger picture. I should be ashamed at myself for even bringing it up.

You look at the positives and you think well i can see, hear and think. Things could be a lot worse than they are. Oh the positives really keep you going to when you need some reassurance to hang on to. And i do. I mean, i will never walk agaln. Can many people say that and let their thought processes say it's ok? I can remember being able to walk. It felt good. Maybe i should just accept the consequenes and get on with my life?

You don't realise how much you miss something until it's gone. You skake your head in reignation and think why me? That's all you can do. You think "i can walk this corridoor" the grim realisation is that you can't. But there are people worse off. That's ok then.

18 comments:

  1. There are so many things in life we take for granted. Several years ago I was hit with Sciatica, horrible, painful Sciatica where I was not comfortable in any position at all! Slowly I started to get better and one day I was at the hospital in the waiting room where my mom was having surgery and I was so miserable sitting there, and I would stand and it was just as bad and I saw all these people sitting there with their legs crossed or sitting Indian style on the floor and I just realized how much they took that for granted, that they could just DO THAT.

    I'm so sorry to hear that you are having such a rough time of it, and I know that sometimes knowing that others have it harder than you doesn't always make it easier for you.

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    1. I've gone past the stage of feeling sorry for myself. It's not worth it. I like to write about stuff I'm doing. That's why I was so interested in your post.

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    2. You've come a long way. Don't give up now. You've got a lot to give, I can see from your blog.
      A friend of ours here had a stroke at age 45 and it took him a few years but he never gave up. He was the life and soul of the party, always a witty reply and he still does. He has lost the use of his right arm and limps and shuffles like a drunken sailor . He lives up near us at the top of a mountain and had a quad bike altered for him so he can drive with one hand.

      Nice to meet you

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    3. Thanks, it's nice to meet you too.

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  2. Oh Terry. I don't walk easily, I don't walk well (it hurts and I drag a leg). But I am so very grateful to still have the ability (sort of).
    Hugs.
    And your spirit flies.

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    Replies
    1. Your spirit flies too. I know you're in a lot of pain, but that doesn't seem to worry you I'd be happy with just a little of the spirit you show.

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    2. If whinging, bitching and moaning would take the pain away and give me some of my abilities back you would hear me from there. Without the need of a phone line. Hugs.

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  3. No, no. I didn't write that to make you feel sorry. Just that my spirit/attitude isn't always good. Mind you, I have spent the last hour outside blowing bubbles and am smiling all over my face. Some of them have lasted more than half an hour. Magic.

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  4. I'm watching 'A Hard Day's Night' on my iPad.

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  5. We take a lot for granted. Life can change so quickly. I appreciate you sharing your journey with us. I've learned so much from your writing.

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    1. Thanks. I'm a disabled person, but I can see what people have to put up with.

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  6. Thank you for stopping.
    I had a stroke in 2010. It stole about half my right side and every noun in my vocabulary. The whole time I was fighting back I thought, "What if it had been worse, and I were stuck in myself and no words came out." It always could be worse.

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  7. A good walk is a pleasure people don't understand until they can 't do it.

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    Replies
    1. You should do it as much as you can. From someone who can't do it now, but wishes he could.

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  8. Your experiences are just like what my dad went through. He longed to walk again. It is so hard when you've been an active person.

    I do think you are choosing a good attitude. That choice can make a big difference to your overall happiness. But then again, I say that as someone who has not had to make the choice, and I know it's easier said than done. I wish you the strength to carry on trying. And I'm glad you're writing about this. It helps other people to understand and to be grateful for what they have, while they still have it.

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