In my opinion ...
My husband and I have just completed a six week “course” on Living a Healthy Life with Chronic Conditions. It’s presented by the University of Victoria Center of Aging and is designed as a self-management program. It covered a lot of topics I was already familiar with, but like most courses contained these wonderful nuggets of wisdom and practicality, and often jolted my memory and reminded me that there were things I could do to make my life the best it can be with the condition I have to live with. The attendees had a variety of chronic problems and believe me, some of them made me happy to have the problems I had to deal with.
One of the most important things I was reminded of was to communicate. Sounds pretty simple, but it’s probably one of the things we all fail miserably at most of the time. Coping mechanisms was also a biggie. We all know that we have to do certain things, but sometimes we put them off or think that missing that stretching routine just once or twice won’t really hurt. NOT!
Something very important for me is to remember to be kind and good to myself. Stop for a cup of coffee and sit out on the patio to drink it. Enjoy the day. Arrange your budget so you can go out for lunch or dinner once in a while. I know it gives me that much needed boost. Take a few minutes to phone or write to a friend. Tell your family you love them. That’s being kind to everyone. Give your husband/wife an extra hug and let him know how much you appreciate his/her support. Say thanks to the grocery store clerk for carrying your bags out to the car and say thanks to yourself for hanging in there and doing the best you can.
Give yourself a little hug and a pat on the back. You deserve it.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
mondays with Marlene
In my opinion ...
Can you believe it? I had a friggin’ hissy fit the other day. Things have been going pretty well lately. I’ve started acquafit classes, which I’m enjoying and seem to be doing me some good; I’m walking faithfully and slowly starting to write once again. All in all, I really have nothing to complain about, so why the “spoiled child” act? Pain and frustration, that’s why. We went to a car wash and I was trying to turn my neck to see what the protocol was, but damn it, I couldn’t turn my neck far enough to read the sign, so instead of just approaching from a different angle, I started pounding on the steering wheel and screaming that I wanted my neck to be normal again. All I managed to accomplish out of that little act was to scare the devil out of my husband and bruise my hand. Pretty smart, hey? Totally grown up and adult, right? Not!
When I calmed down and realized I was acting like a jerk, I asked the attendant to give me the dirt on getting the dirt off the car, got in line and it all worked like a charm. Why didn’t I just do that in the first place? Beats the heck out of me but somehow, sore hand and all, I did feel a little better.
There are a lot of frustrations when you are limited to what you can do because of pain, and I guess sometimes it just has to come out. It’s not the first time I’ve been totally frustrated and pissed off because I can’t do something I want to do, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. What I’m trying to do is actually is accept I’m not perfect and do have the right to sound off now and again, excluding kicking the dog or chasing the postman of course.
Now if I could just get my hands on a punching bag. ; )
Can you believe it? I had a friggin’ hissy fit the other day. Things have been going pretty well lately. I’ve started acquafit classes, which I’m enjoying and seem to be doing me some good; I’m walking faithfully and slowly starting to write once again. All in all, I really have nothing to complain about, so why the “spoiled child” act? Pain and frustration, that’s why. We went to a car wash and I was trying to turn my neck to see what the protocol was, but damn it, I couldn’t turn my neck far enough to read the sign, so instead of just approaching from a different angle, I started pounding on the steering wheel and screaming that I wanted my neck to be normal again. All I managed to accomplish out of that little act was to scare the devil out of my husband and bruise my hand. Pretty smart, hey? Totally grown up and adult, right? Not!
When I calmed down and realized I was acting like a jerk, I asked the attendant to give me the dirt on getting the dirt off the car, got in line and it all worked like a charm. Why didn’t I just do that in the first place? Beats the heck out of me but somehow, sore hand and all, I did feel a little better.
There are a lot of frustrations when you are limited to what you can do because of pain, and I guess sometimes it just has to come out. It’s not the first time I’ve been totally frustrated and pissed off because I can’t do something I want to do, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. What I’m trying to do is actually is accept I’m not perfect and do have the right to sound off now and again, excluding kicking the dog or chasing the postman of course.
Now if I could just get my hands on a punching bag. ; )
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Mondays with Marlene
In my opinion ...
Have you ever asked your daughter to get you some rubbers? I did and the final result was quite satisfying, but getting to that point was positively hilarious. First of all she wanted me to repeat my request, which I did. Then she suggested I was probably old enough to buy my own rubbers. I agreed. Then she said she was delighted that I wasn’t too old for safe sex. I said I was delighted as well, but it didn’t have anything to do with safe sex; it was all about exercise. “Ya, ya, ya, everyone knows sex is great exercise so don’t try that one mom.”
It’s funny how some things never change. She didn’t listen to me when she was a teenager either.
After being in a brace for almost seven months, I was sadly out of shape, housebound, lacking confidence and needed to do something about it. My body was crying for help and I was up to throwing out the old lifeline, but needed some rubbers to assist me. Of course since then I have found out they aren’t called rubbers; they are officially known as Theraband, which does sound much better, especially if your daughter is involved.
So now I am the proud owner of an excellent variety of rubbers – er Theraband - to assist me into getting fit again. I found my tolerance levels, got advice from my healthcare professionals and have slowly started to increase my activity. I’m walking most morning, have now started acquacise, am trying to use my exercise ball on a regular basis and have found the Theraband some of the most useful tools I have in my little “get back into moving" arsenal.
There are still things I can’t do, and that may never change, but I’m focussing on the positive, doing what I can and am already feeling much stronger and more sure of myself.
Another great side effect? Meeting new people, getting out of the house on a regular basis and feeling so much better about myself. Important stuff.
And the sex? Well I’ll save that for another column.
Have you ever asked your daughter to get you some rubbers? I did and the final result was quite satisfying, but getting to that point was positively hilarious. First of all she wanted me to repeat my request, which I did. Then she suggested I was probably old enough to buy my own rubbers. I agreed. Then she said she was delighted that I wasn’t too old for safe sex. I said I was delighted as well, but it didn’t have anything to do with safe sex; it was all about exercise. “Ya, ya, ya, everyone knows sex is great exercise so don’t try that one mom.”
It’s funny how some things never change. She didn’t listen to me when she was a teenager either.
After being in a brace for almost seven months, I was sadly out of shape, housebound, lacking confidence and needed to do something about it. My body was crying for help and I was up to throwing out the old lifeline, but needed some rubbers to assist me. Of course since then I have found out they aren’t called rubbers; they are officially known as Theraband, which does sound much better, especially if your daughter is involved.
So now I am the proud owner of an excellent variety of rubbers – er Theraband - to assist me into getting fit again. I found my tolerance levels, got advice from my healthcare professionals and have slowly started to increase my activity. I’m walking most morning, have now started acquacise, am trying to use my exercise ball on a regular basis and have found the Theraband some of the most useful tools I have in my little “get back into moving" arsenal.
There are still things I can’t do, and that may never change, but I’m focussing on the positive, doing what I can and am already feeling much stronger and more sure of myself.
Another great side effect? Meeting new people, getting out of the house on a regular basis and feeling so much better about myself. Important stuff.
And the sex? Well I’ll save that for another column.
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