Growing old..

As each day/week/month, and year passes, I realize more and more that growing old is not for sissies. It's tough going by times.. and one needs a lot of reserve to make it through the next hurdle. ( I don't go over hurdles any more.. just through them with my hands over my head and a prayer that I make it through.)
A few years ago, I had no understanding of the fortitude of the elderly. One has some choices here.. you can sit/lie down and just let your life pass you by, or get up, get dressed, and face the day squarely.. though it may be painful to do so for a while. It makes starting the day with prayer so much more important. God gives me the strength, renewed each day, to do the difficult tasks that a few years ago were mundane chores.

Each day seems to bring another ache or pain or limitation to the usual activity. Some problems are just incapacitating. For those, necessity is really the mother of invention, and one has to go around the hurdle rather than over or through. It's not a shortcut, but the long way around also affords the satisfaction that you actually accomplished something when you had no clue that you could.

Friday and Saturday I spent cleaning the bathroom. It's a small room ~ about 6x8 ft, but the task which would have taken me a few hours 5 years ago, has become monumental, and 2 days was not enough. The linen closet I had let go for years was a monster to slay, and I did so, though not completely to my liking. I pitched and tossed and twisted, turned, climbed the step stool, balanced near the top, breathed in dust, and then stretched and wiped and finally got it clean.. it still needs more. My aching back!

Then the shower curtain.. and window curtain. I wish now that we'd put a vent in the shower rather than the window.. ugh! I had Wendell come in to balance me while I precariously stretched over the tub to reach the curtain rod to remove the old worn out curtain, and then replace it with the new. My aching arms!

The hardest part of the bathroom cleaning was the floor. It needed scrubbed badly, but getting down on my hands and knees to do so was not appealing. Getting down was hard enough, but getting back up... well... suffice it to say I felt panicky and called Wendell to help me get on my feet again.. My aching knees!

The walls need washed yet.. I'm going to look for a Swiffer scrubber to do that task.

As I said, this room would have taken me a couple of hours a few years ago, but with arthritis in my back and hands, 2 torn and healing rotator cuffs in the shoulders, and just general lack of flexibility, the best I could handle was 15-20 minutes at a time with at least that much rest between..
This morning I'm so sore.. the pain med has kicked in, but it's 10am, and now I've missed church. That does not please me one bit.. even for the sake of a clean bathroom. I woke up with a splitting headache from dust, I would think.. I've been coughing it up too.
My aching lungs!

So, today is a day of rest for us.. and that's what we shall do... Wendell has gone back to bed.
He's been giving himself boluses of supplemental oxygen for each task he has to perform..
Like yesterday when he went to the pharmacy to pick up his meds. He gave himself a 15 minute bolus, and was able to walk to the car easier. When he got home, he gave himself another bolus.
He did the same with his shower this morning.. before and after. Whatever works!

I had always hoped I'd grow old gracefully like my mother.. I don't think I've emulated her at all. Where she took each day in stride, I find myself tripping over my own feet and stumbling at every turn.

Be patient... God isn't finished with me yet!