My greatest fear if I survive the initial attack of the zombie apocalypse is limited or no access to reading glasses. No joke. I've watched the entirety of the Walking Dead. I've seen them scavenge. No one has ever ransacked a pharmacy looking for the right reading glasses prescription. How can I ensure my continued survival if I can't read? Or see what I'm eating? Or, I don't know, thread a stupid needle?
Right now, I'm not very ambulatory. I woke up on Monday morning with a pain in my ankle, and when I woke up on Tuesday, I could barely put weight on it. The urgent care doctor prescribed ibuprofen and NO WORKING OUT FOR AT LEAST A WEEK.
Not to be dramatic, but omg, WUT?!?!
For the record, I don't consider myself an athletic person. Or a particularly busy person. I don't know that I would even say I'm an ACTIVE person. I do things, sure. And I do them regularly. Have BEEN doing them regularly for years now. But that's just not really how I see myself.
Until I can't do them!
Just the thought of not doing any of my weekly activities-- strength training, pole, dance, WALKING even-- is crushing (there's that drama again). All of my nights this week are open. I can't even contemplate whether I'm being lazy or smart for going/not going to an activity because the decision has been taken away from me by my lack of a functioning ankle.
I realize just how much movement is a part of my life.
So, picture me, if you will, writhing on the floor. Whining. Flying fists. One leg, my right, kicking out. That's me pouting because I have to be still. I have to rest. I have to heal. But I don't want to. I'd rather do all those other things I usually do!
But at the gentle reminding of some friends, I remember that movement is not the totality of my identity. That either I can focus on the things I can't do or I can redirect my attention to other things I love, like reading, writing, and watching movies. I can focus my energy into bringing myself comfort. I can work on showing myself tenderness and provide for myself with loving attention.
*insert image of Kanani writhing on the floor*
I can do it! I AM doing it. I submit as evidence the fact that I'm home right now instead of at work. Because I could absolutely hobble around the office on my wonky foot, but that's probably super subpar to another day of healing and rest to my overall well-being. And really, is there an easier action to take than REST that yields such impactful positive consequences?
Sigh. It's still a learning process. I'm working on it. I've always waited for someone else to give me what I needed, and I've figured out recently that I can give those things to myself. I can be the provider of comfort, tenderness, attention, and love. But what's also amazing (and astonishing), is realizing that I'm not alone. My family and friends with their offers of support, and my kids, for looking out for their aging mother 😂. It's not a bad existence I have.
