Day 304. 171.5 pounds lost.
The day was October 31, 2016……
I awoke this morning like I do most days; my dogs told me it was time to open my eyes. I felt cold, wet tongues on my cheeks; eeehhhkkk. I rolled over, mentally bracing myself for the arduous task of standing up. My legs hurt so bad I felt tears in my eyes and my day had yet to begin. I sat there on the edge of the sofa trying to stretch my leg out so I could work up the nerve to stand up. I reached for my cane and braced for the pain I knew was coming. Almost instantly, I felt sharp pains that radiate down my legs. I let out a moan. If I could just take one step, I knew I could at least start moving. I slowly made my way to the kitchen and made myself a pot of coffee. I knew today would be a “big” day as it was house cleaning day and Halloween. My folks would be coming down for a visit, so I needed the house presentable.
First things first; “make the bed.” I grabbed the second cane located in the kitchen, so I could move around a little faster and made my way to the living room. I slept on the couch because my stairs got too difficult to go up and down. I folded the sheets and put the blankets away, all the while trying to balance myself on two canes. With all that effort I was tired already. I poured a cup of coffee and decided I needed a smoke break. At least the “bed” was made….*sigh*.
I had a chair that sat right by the back door, so I could crack it open and have a cigar. The chair also acted as a permanent “resting place” midway between the living room and the downstairs bathroom in case I needed to take a break. All that walking around my house took every bit effort I had. It was only 7:30 in the morning and I needed a pain pill. I popped open the bottle of Hydrocodone and took the first of three pills. Cleaning the house was a big job because I could only do one room or small tasks at a time before I would need a break. Four hours later I finally had the main floor done and had even made a neatly stacked pile of things that needed to go to the upper level so that Goomba could lug it up there for me. It was almost noon and I had gone through a pot of coffee and several cigars. I wasn’t going to worry about the upstairs level because I never went up there. I lived on the main level of my home for the most part. I hadn’t even seen my bedroom in months.
I spent the rest of the afternoon watching Goomba decorate the yard and put up Halloween lights and décor. I had done “so much” walking around from my house cleaning adventure that my legs were starting to freeze up. Watching Goomba for the rest of the afternoon was about the best I could do. Every now and then he would say “hey, come look at what I did.” My legs were utterly stiff by this point so it was always extra hard making my way out to the porch and into the yard so I could take a look at the graveyard he had set up. A few of those times I even had to plop down into the grass because my legs simply couldn’t hold me up.
It was about 3 pm, and I needed to take a shower. I dreaded this because of the amount of effort it took to bathe myself and somehow get all my clothes on without losing my breath. I had one of those white medical shower chairs in there, but it was still just as tiring. Standing up for any period of time, even just minutes was agonizing. Just getting my underwear and socks on took a balancing act not even seen at a circus. Because of this I only showered a few times a week.
Getting dressed was also stressful because by this time I had nearly worn out every pair of black yoga pants I owned. There wasn’t such a thing called “picking out an outfit,” it was simply throwing on whatever clothes were clean. Most of the time I would have to spend at least 15 to 20 minutes sewing up little holes in my pants that had appeared with the new washing. Keeping the only things that fit together was something I had to do almost daily. I would sometimes dry my hair and throw on makeup, but I knew I would have to make the long hike upstairs and throw my arms around trying to get my hair dry. It was exhausting just thinking about it.
It was around 6:00 pm. My parents were now at my home and trick-or-treaters were starting to ring the bell. I watched most of the night from my big chair by the door in hopes I could see the cute little costumes and faces. Most of the time my folks or Goomba would have to get up to answer the door. It was hard for me, so we took turns. By this time I had already popped two more hydrocodone.
By 8:00 pm it was over and my folks had headed home. I spent the rest of the evening tearing through all the leftover candy bars. It wouldn’t have surprised me if I had eaten at least 20 of them because there was a pile of wrappers 6 inches high by the time I fell asleep in my chair.
This was one year ago today. When there are weeks when progress is slow, all I have to do is go back in time and remember where I came from. I wasn’t living, I was merely surviving. Praying that maybe I wouldn’t wake up and that it could all just be over with. It freaks me out this was just a year ago. *smiles*……
Lovingly,
Bean
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