Friday, March 25, 2011

Dream Rangers

I couldn't say it better myself. 

Turn the sound down low if you are at work, and spend 3 minutes and 11 seconds with these men, these ordinary yet triumphant men. 

 

And now that you have the general idea, watch it again.  Feel your smile broaden.
And don't worry, it's okay to be teary.  It's just a little bit dusty at your desk today.

When people ask me to explain my sunny attitude, I stumble and fumble and I'm never quite sure that I am conveying what I really want to say.  I'm living a reality without the luxury of observing it from afar.  I am in the center of a maelstrom of good wishes and court proceedings and out of town visitors.  

I am the calm in the eye of the storm.  Everyone is watching, wondering, worrying, hovering over and about me.  

I am alive.  That's about as far as I get in terms of deep thought on this issue

That alone is enough to keep me occupied, it seems.  The citizen heroes, the first responders - they kept me from dying.  The UMC doctors and nurses and techs and Chief's of everything brought me back from the brink.  The rehab piece is all on me.  

Dr. Boaz allowed me to take his hip home inside my body, but only if I promised to keep any and all weight off it until 12 weeks had passed.  This was good news at the time, since the initial prognostication had been 16 weeks.  For the past 11 weeks I have had only inadvertent moments  when pressure has been applied to that leg; jumping off the electric cart at WallyWorld as I careened it into a woman in the salad dressing aisle was not my most graceful nor intelligent move.  For the most part, though, I've been remarkably compliant.

But the rehab required more than attention to detail.  It required hard work.  Some I did and some I didn't.  

Unless my SuziSitters were vigilant my breathing exercises went undone.  I really didn't like this device at all. 

It hurt to use it - even before I knew that I had a fractured rib - and it made me nauseous and light headed and dizzy and I didn't like it at all.  The Bride was adamant, Reggie was insistent.  They each expected compliance. 

I usually adored them. These were not among those moments.

But, when encouraged, I did use the thing.  I knew it was good for me and I knew that I was lucky to be alive to use it and anyway the rest of my body hurt so much deeper, felt tighter and stranger and more incompetent, so that by the time I got around to complaining about my lung capacity I felt kinda sorta just a little bit foolish.

It did feel awful.  I was doing it to myself.  Who needs breathing anyway?  Deep breaths are vastly overrated.

But then I thought back to the people who ran out of the Safeway, into a hail of bullets, because I needed help.  Seriously.  I have people in my life who put themselves at risk so that I could lie on my couch two months later and kvetch about inhaling.  

Hand me the damn device and stop laughing at me.

So, when I am asked for a personal inventory, a status report, an update on my condition, it's fair to say that this is as far as I have gotten: I'm alive.

My sunny attitude is that of those gentlemen on their motorcycles : 

Life is short and unexpected things happen so get out and do something to put a smile on your face. 

And take someone you love along for the ride.

14 comments:

  1. I love coming to this spot everyday to read and wonder how I will be next inspired. My life is richer for having found your thoughts and sunny attitude and as a favorite relative once told me, "Don't thank me just PASS IT ON!" she was my father's Aunt, who once was a kindergarten teacher, graduated from Pratt in N.Y. and never had any children of her own. I reaped all the benefits of her love for children and that quote is my best memory to carry forward. So THANK YOU and I will try to pass it on. More ripples in the pond...........Carol

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  2. What a great vudeo and an equally positive post.
    Happy Spring. Time for renewal...debbie

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  3. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE your attitude. You will live long and prosper.

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  4. You're the Age Whisperer and you're getting through to me.

    You're younger than I, but your perforation experience catapulted you into an experience with physical aging far beyond your years. There's something that I think happens, barring early perforation or illness, at around the mid-sixties. We've tasted what aging might really be like and we've tried on "graceful acceptance."

    And we're done with it. It doesn't feel like living at all. I tried gracefully. Now, I'm ready to be a Dream Ranger. Let's ride.

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  5. You are pretty amazing to keep up with, even with that devil breath thingie.

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  6. I figure there are two ways to look at this - be depressed and host a permanent pity party OR greet each morning as a gift that was randomly given to me and taken from Christina-Taylor. I have her energy and attitude tucked away inside, and yes, Nance "Let's Ride!"
    a/b

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  7. AB I loved this video the first time I saw it but it had even more sentiment viewing it again on your blog and from your own perspective of dream on or quit! Quit is not ever going to be part of your eloquently written or spoken vast vocabulary! Love you girlfriend!

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  8. There is a really nice piece on poetry in the latest Oprah magazine, April issue, 17 double pages very worth seeing.

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  9. We all we need a reminder. Thank you.

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  10. Keep on breathin' baby. ;) You're doing great.

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  11. I copied those last two lines of your post and shared them on my Facebook and Twitter over the weekend. Many commented that was just what they were doing on Sunday. And enjoying every minute.

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  12. dkzody, THAT is exactly what I hope to celebrate from my new-found platform. The joy of sharing something you love with someone you love - we all do it and we think nothing of it at the time. But those are the memories that make the biggest impressions, I think.

    Thanks for sharing my thoughts.
    a/b

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  13. Awh, thanks for the smile. I love your positive thoughts :)

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