Getting Real

Julie has the last weekend of the month off (from church), which is also her birthday weekend. She mentioned the other day that a student was performing in Sweeney Todd on Vashon Island that weekend, and she asked me what I thought about going over to the island, getting a hotel room, having a nice dinner, seeing the show, and the next morning going to Vashon Presbyterian Church to hear our friend Leigh preach.

I was literally speechless; my mouth moved but nothing came out, until I finally managed to say, "Do you actually think I could, you know, do ANY of that?" Wait in the ferry line, take the ferry, drive to the hotel, dinner, show, church, etc., etc.

And she laughed. Of COURSE she meant she would be going alone. Hahaha. Obviously.

So yeah. She gets it, of course; she lives with me. It just kind of shook me that plans are now being made with the assumption that I can't participate. It had to happen, but it's winter and things are slow, and it hasn't really come up yet.

It's just that I've always carried the philosophy that if you argue enough for your limitations, they'll become real and permanent. I don't want any of this to be permanent.

But it's real. I think I finally accepted that only a week or so ago; something in the back of my mind wanted to believe that it would just get better or fade away, or that we'd discover low blood sugar or a faulty heart valve or some other explanation.

I'm very familiar with denial and rationalization as strategies to resist change, but this isn't about not wanting to fix a bad habit or bad behavior. It's about acceptance, and I think that's what happened.

I'm now in my sixth month of this sickness. There's a Groundhog Day feeling I'd like to avoid, but I can't deny the sameness to this. I'm still confident that in another six to 12 months, this will only be a memory.

But it occurred to me the other day that I might be a good idea to use a cane around the house. I have serious balance issues and have had some falls, and while they've all been mostly comical with soft landings, I can see a time when they stop being funny.

The cane means it's real, too. Not a bad thing, but it's definitely a thing.