I quite literally bumped into a friend I hadn’t seen since college. After sharing the big data points in our lives, she said, “I remember you as fearless. Remember when we met a guy who flew a glider plane and you were the one who took a ride? And then you hitch-hiked to Canada because you’d never been and spent a summer rafting white water. Are you still fearless?”
For a moment, I actually wondered who she was thinking of before I remembered those stories. After 35 years of the bumps and bruises from living with chronic illnesses, I’m not that person anymore. I told her that I don’t travel much as I’d like because my health is so unpredictable. I described how during this past winter’s intense cold and snow, I didn’t leave my house for days at a time in fear I’d fall on ice and break another bone. I become anxious walking my dog (!) because she pulls hard and I’ve broken bones falling.
I told her living with illness had changed me — as had aging. Wanting to say something that put a positive spin on this, I said, “Aging , wisdom– realizing actions bring consequences.”(Understatement or what?) We smiled but I knew that this didn’t feel like a positive change. I felt sad.
This chance meeting stayed with me. I’d flash on her memories of me, feeling a longing to be that fearless person again. But then I’d come face to face with the fact that the bumps and bruises of chronic illness had changed me. I was no longer that fearless risk taker. I’d become risk averse.
At what point did I morph into this person? Not sure but I don’t want her to take root. I want to be happier and more satisfied in my life even while my body continues to let me down. And I believe that one way to do this is to teach myself to take emotional and physical risks again.
But how to get from here (risk averse) to there (risk taker)? I’m starting with my goal (to be more satisfied with my life) and my desired outcome (to take risks with confidence). Next step is taking small steps with the intention to practice and change. Which is just what happened when I chose to ignore a painful, broken toe and new gastric symptoms that made my life miserable and climbed into my kayak for the first time this season. It was heavenly being on the water again in Gloucester. I was paddling hard, not thinking about what I shouldn’t do but focusing on what I could do when I looked around for my husband. As the panic started to rise when I couldn’t see him, some part in me dug deep and found a big smile. I could do this. Small change but it resonated. I can build on that.
I don’t know where we find the resilience to keep going but when we do, it feels so lovely, doesn’t it?
Cyn Altamirano says
I’ve always said that I really do hate how much I love reading your posts. Having MS has prevented me from doing so much, yet makes each victory very special. Recently, I’ve experienced considerable consternation at not being able to move forward and finish the last term of my teaching credential. It’s always been in my heart to teach but family, and then MS, changed my life’s direction. In my forties I went back to school and believed that I could have twenty years to give back in the workforce. Not in the traditional sense of income earnings, but in non-profit, working with the underserved. Some unseen hand has played havoc with my dream. Nearly ten years have gone by since graduation and I’ve only been able to work roughly half that time; there’s always something wrong with my health, always.
Each time I fight my way back and then read about my experience in your blog. Well, your experience, that is, as I am also celebratory after wrenching victory out of the hands of defeat once more. And I appreciate that you articulate my feelings so artfully.
Thank you,
Cyn
Rosalind says
I’m glad that what I write resonates. I suppose that’s why I work so hard on writing them because I do think that there’s a LOT to say about these particular life challenges but it’s also easy to just vent and not say something worse listening to. I was a classroom teacher when I was young & before I developed MS. when I was re entering the workforce in my 40’s, I desperately wanted to go back to doing that but knew I’d never be able to make it physically. I applaud your determination and hope that you continue to find the victories — even if they’re hiding under stones!
Pam Fitzgibbon says
I was fearless in my 20’s. I was a flight attendant for 30 years. Then came multiple surgeries, including hysterecomy, breast cancer, migraines, and fibromyalgia. And last year, double knee replacement. In spite of all these setbacks,I felt like I was doing ok and staying in the game.
But at 64 now, I am too scared to do anything because I cannot afford financially or physically to hurt myself. That is what I hate. Its a shame that it gets to that point but unless you have good health and keep yourself in good to excellent physical shape, taking risks later in life is too risky.
But one thing may be changing my mind. My mother got dementia at age 89 and now 4 years later can no longer recognize her family or friends. Dealing with her illness and all the ups and downs has caused me and my siblings to rethink our lives. To take better care of ourselves and to enjoy life, because you never know when bad health will put you down and out.
Our mother was the last person we thought would develop this and she was so active right up until the dementia set in and then it was a quick progression.
So, I am going to try and take some risks myself. And fight my way back also. Good luck to everyone else out there on the same journey.
.
Rosalind says
So good to hear from you, Pam. I’m glad that you’re seeing opportunity ahead! Thanks for sharing.
Ellen says
As always you seem to hit on a topic that is part of my life in some way. I fight as hard as I can to not become “a little old lady” who sits at home being careful. I make lots of people unhappy that I keep trying to live a normal life. But alas, it isn’t to be, I can’t go in the sun, I can’t walk much more than a 1/2 mile, as soon as one problem is solved another pops up and Doc appts., surgeries, test are a normal part of life. How to balance it is what we all fight. Watching other people my own age go for a long hike in the woods and come back refreshed, tired and excited and knowing what it would do to me is very depressing at times.
But in my mind I truly have only one choice get up and do the best you can. No easy task some days.
Rosalind says
I know what you mean about watching others do things that you can’t. There’s something inside that feels like it should be us, don’t you think? Doing our ‘best’ can be difficult. I believe the best we can do is to start by allowing ourselves to feel that – not stuff it.