Restlessness

I continue to feel incredibly restless and uncomfortable, with a lot of tension in my jaw. Relaxation tapes and Atavan still don't make it easy to sleep, but painkillers help. Much of my day is taken up by eating ice chips; mealtimes are a chore, a big change for someone who was such an enthusiastic eater. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, especially naked, it's such a shock I don't know who I'm looking at. My arms and legs are like flabby little sticks and my breasts are not where they used to be. Every couple of days I have a shower, which requires help from two nurses to set me on a commode chair and wheel me under the water.

There's still an iota of improvement in my left leg every day, so tiny that I'm almost afraid to acknowledge it. Outside of my professional life, I have never placed any trust in hope. In the realm of the personal, hope has never stood me in good stead, and in fact has brought me a lot of pain. So I tend to be the sort of person who expects the worst and is thrilled if I'm wrong. These are completely learned responses based on life's experiences. How does one learn to hope? Or how does one unlearn not to hope?

Anyway, I kind of mock-walked in a walker for quite a distance on Thursday, with the physiotherapists helping my bad leg all along the way. I did feel more sensation in my heel, which helped me to know where it was each time they put it in position. Here's my modest hope: that some day I will be strong enough to get around a little in a walker and then can have my catheter removed and take myself to the bathroom.

Many Pollyanna moments:

• Neil flew out from Vancouver for a day just to see me and brought delightful gifts. The best one: he twisted a piece of silver wire into a makeshift tiara that fits perfectly on my head. He also brought fresh fruit, and I must say the ripe apricot was a much better dessert than the "Kozy Shack Tapioca Pudding" in its sealed plastic container that came with my so-called meal.
• Helen flew out from Edmonton, also bearing gifts, including a little red piggy bank named William. She says he's William the Wish Pig, and she wants people to put coins in him, one cent for a wish, and later when I shake it I'll know lots of people are wishin' and hopin' for me.
• My sister is here for three days, and I appreciate her taking time away from her kids (and her partner for helping out) so we can have some time together. And Mom is getting some respite at home.
• Other friends have brought other gifts, so that my window ledge is so crowded I can barely see the gorgeous sunrises on the lake. We've had unusually clear weather lately. I wonder if there will be a snowfall at all in January?