Saturday, October 30, 2010

invisible disability

Well it was bound to happen eventually... there's only so much I could put off not "letting" her see me wearing my O2. And so it's happened and I'm still alive (of course). You'd think that since I've been sharing all my health issues to the greater world I wouldn't still have problems letting someone (new) in. Well, it's just as difficult - if not more so. I can write here and not give a care in the world what you/others think, but la femme francais, not so much. Of course I care what she thinks- I'm still human and still fear rejection.

But I'm not being rejected. It's so weird and I have to fight all that self-sabotage baggage to not push something so wonderful away. I also don't want to be "cared for" in that helpless patient kind of way. It's kind of a relief that she knows more about the technicalities of planes than the technicalities of the human body! Sometimes it's a little disconcerting.

So we're planning a trip to la ville de Quebec soon and I guess it's about time she get used to the O2 issue cuz if I'm gonna hang out in her old stomping ground I'm gonna need to bring my travel tanks (old Quebec is all hill). It's a quiet pleasure to have someone consider accessibility issues without even asking (old inns with no elevators vs locations of b&b's in relation to the major hills). It doesn't seem like a burden right now (although in all the literature on couples & family therapy that I've read, it indicates that what you originally fall in love with in someone, you eventually hate). So maybe right now it's not an issue... but there I go resorting to doom and gloom and not accepting what IS right in front of me. What is, is.

We walked a trail yesterday. It was cold and wet and we went slow. On the way back I turned to see how long I walked and couldn't believe that I did almost the entire trail. I am, at my own pace, returning to a pace I could handle about two years. It's a lot slower, but I can do almost as much. It was so cool to walk the trail... OK not at regular speeds, but go further than even a year ago.
Something we've talked about is self-care. How some people don't take care of themselves and take their health and life for granted. I feel appreciated for my efforts to still live an active life - perhaps not her level of active, but there's no comparison because she is healthy and super-fit and has to be (for work). We all have choices she says, and I could choose to sit in front of the TV on a cold and grey Saturday morning rather than walk the forest. But I don't. That's the joie-de-vivre she sees and acknowledges.


Perhaps disability is not as scary to some as it once was. The more it's talked about, not hidden, the more sensitized people become. I think right now it's that reason I continue to write. My reasons have definitely changed over the past 2 years. Originally I did not want my 'ex' wife to be alone with the huge burden of living with someone who was in the process of slowly dieing. Since we're all dieing on some level I'm not sure that's such an issue anymore. Sure there are still days I cannot for the life of me catch my breath and have to end all activities or leave work early, but they are less frequent and last a very short time in comparison to the past.

My joie-de-vivre is reawakened. I spent the past 11 months opening up to it, finding me again, and now I've found someone that speaks the same language. Literally. It's incredible. There are words I thought I had forgotten long ago that were buried so deep, that in some cases go back to childhood (with us having read the same french cartoons etc.) that just bubble to the surface. (And she doesn't make fun ofhte fact that my grammaire is atrocious- just loves that I try). I had thought it dead and like a slow burning fire it's re-emerging realizing it was never gone, just buried. Perhaps this is why I could do that little trail in the cold rain yesterday. I'm not sure I can snow shoe but I am so grateful for the opportunity to be able-bodied enough to still go outside and walk in the universe, breathing in the fresh air, milling about slowly in the pine and birch forest.

I'm excited to return to one of the most romantic cities in North America but with her. I've wanted to go back there the past few years. Now I can be shown around rather than lead the way. Ahhh.... I am so blessed for the ability to open my heart once again! May it continue to repair itself, both metaphorically and medically.

(Meow-Meow I intend on keeping that pact: 53!)