What’s Your Medicine of Choice?

 

It was July 1 when summer finally came in New England. Sadly, we’d had to scrap our vacation plans and I was searching for something to look forward to. My husband suggested a “Girls trip” with our 2 daughters, both in their 30’s.  An opportunity to celebrate our birthdays (spanning late June to early August) and to have fun.

With only 3 days in July that we could all be away, our requirements included a destination in easy driving distance, great food and things to do within my physical limits.  Portland, Maine fit the bill. It seemed like an easy city to navigate with fun shopping, great restaurants, beautiful walking beaches in the area and a museum I was told was a ‘must see’. We were psyched.

Arriving too early to get into our hotel room, we stored our bags at the front desk thinking we’d use the hour to start exploring.  Distracted, I didn’t consider that I was wearing sandals instead of my firm soled sneakers. My walking stick was stashed away somewhere.  I also had no idea that we were staying in the part of the city paved with quaint but treacherously unstable cobblestones.

The truth is that my balance wasn’t good and I had difficulty walking distances even before I broke and dislocated my ankle 15 months ago,.  The bones mended well but they’re held together with plates and screws and after 3 months of non weight bearing, at 67, I had to learn how to walk again.

Leaving the hotel, I’d taken just a few steps when I inverted my ankle on the cobblestone. The pain was immediate. By the next day, it hurt to put weight on my foot.

The good news is that we had wonderful meals, some rewarding shopping moments, and visited a few sights. To limit my walking, we skipped the ‘must see’ museum, the interesting spots with difficult terrain, and a day at a beautiful beach.  My daughters don’t miss a beat when my body gets in the way of what we can do.  It’s been a part of our lives since they were born.  

But this time, I couldn’t lift out of my sadness. The next week, traveling with my husband in Montreal, my ankle started to heal but not my mood.

I’ve lived with unpredictable and often debilitating symptoms of illness for 40 years.  I’ve broken quite a few bones along the way.  But this has been relentless. Six months ago, walking on tile floor, I lost balance, fell and chipped my collarbone. Three months ago, I stumbled slightly causing a stress fracture that took 4 weeks to heal.  Experience tells me I’m one step away from the next injury and that could be the one that doesn’t heal. That’s a scary thought that leads nowhere. Unfortunately, it seemed to paralyze me.   

Luckily, back from vacation, I had work that needed my attention and had to get done. As I’ve written many times, work continues to be the most effective medicine for me. It doesn’t matter what it is or whether I’m earning money.  But it has to engage me and I have to feel I’m adding value. This helps me regain my balance, my hope and my resilience. It’s the “medicine” that always works and it didn’t let me down this time.

And, when I saw my Physical Therapist this week, he told me that we can do something for this. He gave me exercises to strengthen the muscles around my ankle bones so my ankles can be more resilient in handling stressors.  In case I’d forgotten, bodies and minds need to have the capacity to maintain balance and resilience.

Every day I’m talking and working with people living with difficult, debilitating chronic health. Naturally, they struggle to find hope that this thing, whether it’s physical, mental or emotional, will get better or just less debilitating. It’s never a quick fix, it’s a journey and there doesn’t seem to be the magic pill that works for everyone. 

But then the real work isn’t about getting better, is it?  It is about learning what and where you can take charge, learning which “medicine” works or doesn’t, learning which path allows you to maintain your balance whatever gets in your way.  

How is it going for you?  Have you found the medicine that restores balance and reliance, even hope?