Sitting in bed…
Sitting in bedI feel fine.
Body mostly extended, even with the head up in the sitting position and knees raised I feel fine. Mostly.
Get up in my wheelchair and it’s an entirely different story.
Setting, bend at the waist 90°, knees 90° with feet heading towards the floor and “something” is wrong.
It takes a few minutes, maybe 10, maybe 30, generally not much longer, and the message starts rising in my autonomic nervous system…”Something” is wrong.
The feeling of damp cool discomfort begins to spread. Blood is recalled from my brain to “Something” more important. Cognitive performance declines, creative work goes out the window.
I retreat to the prone position, and with in minutes, order is restored.
Outside of this everything seems fine. Food goes in and comes out as it should. Liquids the same.
The pressure concerns on my backside, an obvious suspect, have all healed quit completely.
I’m left wondering, what is being pinched or prodded or pressured to create this discomfort.
I’m using yet another voice typing software today, not willing to go two days without publishing when I can help it.
Still, my energy is low and the software only marginally cooperative (mostly my learning curve on this one I think.)
I could describe challenges and physical distress from yesterday, or the meditation class at the end which helped to remind me that it’s all worth it. I might’ve gone into detail about this morning’s engagements with our nurse friend here to change the catheter (in case that may have been at fault– It wasn’t), or Patience and I making the most of a slow morning and getting a lot done from bed.
Of course the morning brant credit card fraud to be managed, but it also brought a promising interview with a potential care partner.
The day was cooler today, still sunny and a few clouds. As the evening begins to come on, the wind dances with the wind chimes visible from bed, the palm leaves on the porch casting shadows through the glass and onto the wall, movement of the day. Gentle, natural, present.
My doctor has been checking in and will be ordering some tests this evening. Cassandra is at the market looking for bread and honey.
I’ll go back to work now, more technical tasks available from bed. So much to be grateful for. So much stillness. So many go unremembered right now. I am not one of them. I am blessed. I remember too many lost and forgotten children and adults alike. I also remember the beauty imaging everyone of us, that too all too often lost and forgotten.
May we remember.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…