Walking on Broken Glass . . .
That's what's in my head this early morning. As my friend, Michelle would say, an earworm. And well worth watching again - if for no other reason than seeing both John Malkovich and Hugh Laurie in period costume. Not sure why it's in my head - no former lovers in my picture . . . maybe it's my feet . . .
Some days they are feeling so much better, and then, out of nowhere, they hurt. I just keep going along, but having my time this regimented - and little time for anything else or even myself is taking its toll. The therapist relented and said I could ride my bike . . . but other than on the weekends, there is little time to do so.
PT three nights a week and the gym once - that leaves me one evening free, and I'm feeling a little fractured. Work continues at break-neck pace, and when I leave there, there does not seem to be much time left over for anything other than heading directly to PT, and by the times that's done, I have about an hour to see to anything else I might have wanted to see to. It's not enough. No time - no time to cook, poor food choices, take out daily in some form, not sleeping well, and not enough time or energy to work out . . . this is a recipe for disaster . . . and not in the making, already in process.
There are times in one's life where the effects of everything that is going on become visible - the last time this happened to me was when I got divorced, moved across the country, changed jobs, bought a house and my mom died. I can remember looking in the mirror at myself and wondering if I was ever going to look OK again - huge black circles from lack of sleep and the pain of loss clearly marked on my face.
I looked in the mirror yesterday, and I have aged appreciably in the last month. I guess all this foot nonsense and its concomitant parts have taken their toll. In truth - I have been dealing with this for about a year - the fact that it's only now showing in my face is pretty amazing.
Up so very early this morning because I woke up before 4 and just could not go back to sleep, and am in my workout clothes, but not actually going to make it down to the basement to work out - The stretching and exercises and icing . . . they take at least a half an hour every morning (and evening) and the car needs to go in for a checkup and maintenance today. Early.
Whiner . . .
This will pass and I continue on my path - but the graphic reminder now visible on my face that time is passing and parts of my body are not working as they should is a little sad. I can see why so many in Hollywood succumb to the plastic surgeon - one day you look like you've always looked, and the next - you look so very different. The allure of the knife and promise of what our culture prizes so much - youth - are strong pulls.
But this is my face and my body. I worked hard to have both, and I have no interest in looking like someone else - or a cartoon of myself. And really, it's quite likely after a few good nights of sound sleep that I will look and feel fine. And so I continue with good sunscreen and a hat. But it would be nice to walk without pain, and sleep through the night without a foot or leg cramp waking me up, and have enough time to fit everything in.
Speaking of which . . . I had better get cracking or I will not get to the dealership with the car in time to get back home and get on the train.
Some days they are feeling so much better, and then, out of nowhere, they hurt. I just keep going along, but having my time this regimented - and little time for anything else or even myself is taking its toll. The therapist relented and said I could ride my bike . . . but other than on the weekends, there is little time to do so.
PT three nights a week and the gym once - that leaves me one evening free, and I'm feeling a little fractured. Work continues at break-neck pace, and when I leave there, there does not seem to be much time left over for anything other than heading directly to PT, and by the times that's done, I have about an hour to see to anything else I might have wanted to see to. It's not enough. No time - no time to cook, poor food choices, take out daily in some form, not sleeping well, and not enough time or energy to work out . . . this is a recipe for disaster . . . and not in the making, already in process.
There are times in one's life where the effects of everything that is going on become visible - the last time this happened to me was when I got divorced, moved across the country, changed jobs, bought a house and my mom died. I can remember looking in the mirror at myself and wondering if I was ever going to look OK again - huge black circles from lack of sleep and the pain of loss clearly marked on my face.
I looked in the mirror yesterday, and I have aged appreciably in the last month. I guess all this foot nonsense and its concomitant parts have taken their toll. In truth - I have been dealing with this for about a year - the fact that it's only now showing in my face is pretty amazing.
Up so very early this morning because I woke up before 4 and just could not go back to sleep, and am in my workout clothes, but not actually going to make it down to the basement to work out - The stretching and exercises and icing . . . they take at least a half an hour every morning (and evening) and the car needs to go in for a checkup and maintenance today. Early.
Whiner . . .
This will pass and I continue on my path - but the graphic reminder now visible on my face that time is passing and parts of my body are not working as they should is a little sad. I can see why so many in Hollywood succumb to the plastic surgeon - one day you look like you've always looked, and the next - you look so very different. The allure of the knife and promise of what our culture prizes so much - youth - are strong pulls.
But this is my face and my body. I worked hard to have both, and I have no interest in looking like someone else - or a cartoon of myself. And really, it's quite likely after a few good nights of sound sleep that I will look and feel fine. And so I continue with good sunscreen and a hat. But it would be nice to walk without pain, and sleep through the night without a foot or leg cramp waking me up, and have enough time to fit everything in.
Speaking of which . . . I had better get cracking or I will not get to the dealership with the car in time to get back home and get on the train.
Comments
I left my meeting yesterday at about 5:45 (conveniently forgetting we were supposed to be there until 6:30 PM) and went straight to the hotel. There I plugged in my computer, then changed and went down to the gym and worked out for 40 minutes. When I got back to the room, I ordered a healthy dinner from room service (grilled salmon and veggies) with a glass of red wine and got back to work. I ate when it arrived and continue working until 9 PM, at which point I brewed a cup of chammomile tea, changed into my nightie and called B to end the day. I was out by 10:30 and slept until 6 AM. I feel better than I have in weeks!
Love to you!! Maybe I should figure out a way to visit you before you leave for Morrocco.
Ouch! All over! I get it. Life gets like this sometimes-- but living with chronic pain presents a special challenge. Self-care self-care--that's all I can think of right now. Is there anyway you can slow the rest of your life down? Is your foot being the Sage asking you to slow down? I'm thinking of you and will send your precious feet some healing energy!
xo-Pam