WITHIN REACH

I’m pretty much off the pity pot now and headed toward the braggin’ wagon. Tuesday 4th will be 2 weeks since the old bones took a hit and last Wednesday’s follow-up X-rays showed some fine healing. Can’t keep a good/old woman down. But it’s a trip, I’ll tell you…no pun intended!

And what a trip to the hospital it was. Lorenzo, ‘our’ taxi driver is one of those angels who drop into your life when you most need them. He just happened to be the driver the hospital called to take me home, the day of the accident. He is now our driver for return trips and kinder man you’ll never meet. And he comes with a great zest for life and a good grasp of English. Without him guiding us through the mis-directions and bureaucracy of various hospital wings, we’d be lost.

It also helped that the admitting nurse of the X-ray department was mightily impressed to meet a writer and helped speed up the waiting process; a process much like going to the deli counter in the super market…yep, you actually take a number and wait for it to be called. Unfortunately it does not come with a pastrami on rye.

When one’s life becomes limited, one sees clearly how expansive life is. One also sees how much of it we squander. When you can’t do the smallest thing, like walk 3 feet to the couch and plump up the cushions, you are painfully reminded of how much you complain about chores, chores you would now give anything to perform. You also become extremely grateful for the little things still available to you; like being able to tell left from right, which evidently the radiologist couldn’t. Having taken the brace of the right leg, he then proceeded to line up the left one for an X-ray! Never leave home without a magic marker.

I have now had more wheelchairs in 10 days that I have cars in 3 decades. The brand for all of them is Surace, which rhymes with hurachi, so natch I call mine Liberace…we are in Italy after all. The first one had malfunctioning levers and flaps. The second looked good, sleek black, nice big wheels. But evidently looks aren’t everything; it was missing the absolutely necessary platform on which to rest my permanently extended leg. Liberace the third leaves much to be desired appearance-wise. In fact, it reminds of the first car I bought as a single parent on welfare with a one-year-old daughter. The car did not come with a key. What do you want for 50 bucks? However, I discovered that inserting a paring knife into the ignition and turning gingerly did the trick. Much like that car, Liberace the third did come with a major flaw: worn out brakes. So Joel to the rescue:

And how exhilarating is it to haul myself off the couch and sit in Liberace’s lap? It’s been a long time since either of us had this much fun! From there I can wheel myself into the kitchen/living room area, replace candles, wipe counters, stand one-legged at the sink and do the dishes one-handed. I’m becoming quite the wheelchair whiz. But if steps are involved, I’m screwed.

So many things that where out of reach the first week are now doable and I take great pride in being able to do my toilette at the bathroom sink, trim my hair with one hand, and lasso my knickers onto my right foot, which has never seemed so far away. Sure, it’s tiring. Sure, I get frustrated, but then I think about all the paraplegics who compete in wheelchair marathons and I’m humbled. And I think about how, when I broke my neck I was nearly permanently paralyzed from the neck down…and gratitude is an understatement.

There is a time in life when aiming for the unreachable is appropriate, necessary even. As kids, and into our 30’s and 40’s we need to strive for what we want. And if we fall short, well, we’re still further along than if we hadn’t tried at all. And by pushing the boundaries we learn what our limitations are and thus learn acceptance. But at a certain point in life we need to find the balance between having the courage to take worthwhile risks (like moving to a foreign country in our 60’s and 70’s) and when to know that enough is enough; when to let go of what you wish you could do and be grateful for what you still can do.

I have experienced quite a bit of sadness this past week that I am unable to work in my garden. One quick tour around it in Liberace and I can see how much needs to be done. Autumn, like spring, is not only an important season in the garden but an exciting one and I am saddened that I missed both of them this year: Spring was spent helping Z through illness, and now autumn is being spent helping myself heal. But just as I begin to head back to the pity pot, I look again and see all that I have achieved in two and half years.

And I see there is a rosebush within reach, and I wheel over to it and so some deadheading.

In the span of a lifetime, much will remain outside the realm of possibility, but it’s important to look up and out to the horizon, to dream of all that lies beyond it. Then the gaze must return to that which is within reach and the rediscovery of how vast is the ‘now.’