I have an entire day void of plans ahead of me–it is an unexpected blank. For many people this is quite a thrill. For me, it’s a dilemma–for I am the queen of boredom these days, and try to book 1-2 activities a day (either meeting a friend and/or an errand to run). Deciding things on spur of the moment is not a strength of mine either and so I sit here a bit perplexed and overwhelmed at the giant shadow of a day before me.
What do I do? What will I do for the next few hours? What do I feel like doing? What will I need to do? I am not sure–these days I don’t even pick what food I eat (despite my previous tendency to be VERY demanding of meal choices–my husband is in heaven as he solely picks and chooses meals for the first time in years).
The entire day is a blank page, and that is quite intimidating. I don’t know how to explain it, but that’s the way it is. Just to give you a picture of the situation–it’s after noon, I’m in my pajamas, on the couch “watching” (because I’m not really watching due to my lack of multi-tasking capabilities) James Bond on the television with the dogs, and I have not yet brushed my teeth. Yes, it’s an ugly scene!
I know I’ve got to get myself out of the house.
I already made a call to my mother. I told my parents about this site by email the other day, so that they can keep up with my progress here–apparently, it is causing my father a great amount of concern! I didn’t mean that to be the outcome, I really thought that this page might be a source of peace to them–their daughter is writing, thinking, and pushing herself to recuperate. Sure, I’ve got short term memory problems, and I can’t write fiction yet, and reading fiction is a task, but how lucky am I to do this much? But then again, we are all impatient people and the reality is that it’s been less than a month since my stroke.
I am, in fact, making remarkable progress. And I am doing a remarkable job hiding my deficits from the world in day to day contact–perhaps it is here in my writing that I reveal all. It never dawned on me that I am such a natural at covering up my weaknesses even to my own parents but it seems I do.
This is how important my writing is to me–and I’m discovering more life lessons as I navigate this stroke and regain much of my cognitive abilities. The first few days, my life was a numb blank–my husband kids that I was quite cooperative! But now I’m regaining my feisty self, and fighting to learn from all of this. Who else suffers a stroke at the age of 33? Not many people, and so I have the chance to learn remarkable things from this–all the more so because I am so lucky to have not been felled.
These days, I live “in the now,” because I have a hard time remembering and not enough energy to invest in the future. It’s a remarkable feat, one which I have largely ignored my entire life. My sense of “now” is expanding–from the fifteen minute span of my first few days (I couldn’t really remember fifteen minutes previous to me, and I couldn’t plan more than fifteen minutes ahead) to a greater span of time. But it is a delicious lesson and I hope to keep this investment in the “now” as I heal.
And my writing–yes, how incredibly important it is to me.