And Days Like This…

Some days, I can’t do anything without feeling dizzy and light-headed.  If I try to cook or empty the dishwasher, even in my wheelchair, I feel as if I’ll pass out.  So I have to be content to do nothing.

Every time I have a day like this, I become discouraged, believe I’ll never feel ‘normal’ again, whatever normal is.  To me, it’s being able to walk through my house without the aid of a walker or a wheelchair (though I’d welcome a walker today); cook and bake the way I used to; drive; walk my dog, play with her outside, visit my friends; go shopping; go to church; do the laundry and other chores when they need to be done, not having to wait for a ‘good’ day.  Or even just to get up and walk across the room to look out the window or turn on a light.

I think of the things I used to do and realize how much personal freedom I’ve lost.  When I was 80, three months after Forrest died, I sold my house, had an auction and moved to Connecticut all in one month.  Now, five years later, I’m in a wheelchair.  Actually, a year after Forrest’s death, I started using a walker.  Just months later, the wheelchair.

I’ve seen doctors, had tests;     No one can make a diagnosis.  It’s obvious that I have high blood pressure but my heart beats steadily, though I do have a condition called paroxysmal atrial tachycardia which sends me to the ER when I have an episode (not often).

I knew one day I’d get old and have to slow down, but I never dreamed I’d not be able to walk.  It was a blow when I could no longer dance.  I loved dancing.  Such a freeing feeling. Now I’d be deliriously happy if I could just walk and feel normal.

Today I had to cancel a dental appointment.  My teeth really need to be cleaned and it takes so long to get an appointment.   Making appointments is tricky.  Fitting Ken’s time in with office time.

Then there are the better days when I can wheel lickety-split through the rooms of the house, stand, walk with the walker, fix a meal without feeling I’m going to faint, perform light chores…   I’m a completely different self.  And I don’t know why.  I keep looking for answers so I can make all days better.  I appreciate them so much when they occur.

At my age, you realize that you’re not as in control of your life as you once thought.  There’s not much in life you can depend on 100 %.


I try to accept what is and go on with my life.  Find things I can be grateful for–the beauty of nature, my sweet companion dog, JennyPenny, what family and friends I have left, my books, computer, telephone, my mind, a house I like, funds which I hope will last me the rest of my life if the economy will allow it, the list goes on.  I’d like to add faith to that list but there are questions, doubts to overcome.  That’s for another day.

This is not an uplifting blog.  I started it to find answers, to become acquainted with myself.  And to present that self to the world.

10 thoughts on “And Days Like This…

  1. Appreciating the good days when they occur is a great start! Sounds like wisdom to me. I’ll bet you also look for good things to celebrate on the bad days, too.

    I hope you get to feeling better soon.


    1. Thank you. Yes, you’re right. Looking for the good is what helps us get through this life. And, of course, it’s not hard to find, really. We’re surrounded by the good and beautiful. Just need to look and see.

  2. My thoughts are with you. I wish I could say something profound but the words escape me. Needless to say I wish you happiness.

  3. I understand. My mother is 83, and she is just now starting to have trouble standing and being steady on her feet. She rarely has a day where there isn’t pain, and some of the things you said here today are things I hear from my mother. I wish I could be there with you to keep you company for a bit. I’m glad you have JennyPenny. It is good to hear you talk about the things you are grateful for. Take care.

  4. Some days are like that. I have a few like that too, and I’m quite a bit younger. When I was significantly less mobile a few years ago, I started working the inner landscape. I hope you’re feeling better now.

    1. Unfortunately, for the past four years, most days are like that. But, yes, writing poetry, reading spiritual books, watching birds, meditating is how I find inner beauty and peace. Thank you for your caring comment.

  5. Hi Mary, my mom is 73 but has COPD and is medically/physically more like 93. I’m 50 and asthmatic, so I kind of know what she must be going through. I was also recently quite ill with bronchitis. It knocked the stuffing right out of me and I missed a week of work. Understanding and accepting that I don’t bounce back like I did in my 30’s and 40’s is hard. I’m not online as much as I used to be but I have been thinking of you and I’m saying prayers and sending positive thoughts that you get to feeling better very soon! Hugs! Donna ❤

  6. Donna, you’re a sweetheart! Thank you so much for your good thoughts and hugs. And my best to you and your mother. No matter what happens, we just need to keep in mind all the beauty in the world. Sometimes it’s hard, but I’m getting better at it.

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