I am getting my "Jimness" back
It has been one hell of a year for me. In fact, the worst year ever. And honestly, this trainwreck started before the end of last year, it just got increasingly painful by the time this year began. But when I think about it, although this year was stressful on me emotionally, my physical problems go back many years, some as far back as the early 1980's. But it wasn't until 1990 when things got bad. I really changed in 1990. I got laid off from an excellent job at McDonnell Douglas (now Boeing) in St. Louis, and went 11 months without work. It damn near killed me. Then I went about 10 years (yes, TEN FUCKING YEARS) where I was underemployed (working my ass off and making little money) and during that period I really went downhill. And by downhill, I really mean off a cliff, with a thousand foot drop, hitting with a hard bounce, then into a black hole that began to spiral downward toward the entrance of the Gates of Hell. This was all BEFORE Paula got hurt.
Yes, I had tried off and on many times to do something to stop the freefall I was experiencing. But with little, temporary success that never lasted. Since 1999 I have been in the hospital no less than seven times (and it seems like more, I just can't remember them all) with the most recent being this past August. When I got home from that stay, I started thinking I wanted to get into better shape for when Paula got home. I was going to need to be stronger so I could take care of her better, and I needed to be less dependent on others for support anyway. So I began to work on myself with little changes. Paula was very happy I was trying so hard to take care of myself. But by that time, her world had gotten so small that sometimes I wasn't sure home much she understood what I was putting myself through. She was so racked with pain and so medicated most of the time that we didn't discuss "me" very much.
When Paula died, I was just stunned. I absolutely never thought it was going to come to this. Never. I knew she was very sick. It had gotten really bad. But I knew that they'd find the cause, and be able to get her to turn the corner. When that didn't happen, I was devistated. My first reaction was a tailspin. I wanted to skip the extra walking and exercises. I wanted to eat something. And I'm not talking veggies. I needed some comfort. Within a day I realized that I was doing it all wrong, and that I was not going to let myself go back to my old ways and lose the progress I had now worked two months to make.
My clothes were starting to fit differently. My walking was improving and my back/hip/leg/knee/foot pain was less. My stamina was improving, and my ability to work more hours was a definite plus. I couldn't allow myself to stop now. PLUS, I knew in my heart that Paula would want me to soldier on and get my "Jimness" back.
Yes, I had tried off and on many times to do something to stop the freefall I was experiencing. But with little, temporary success that never lasted. Since 1999 I have been in the hospital no less than seven times (and it seems like more, I just can't remember them all) with the most recent being this past August. When I got home from that stay, I started thinking I wanted to get into better shape for when Paula got home. I was going to need to be stronger so I could take care of her better, and I needed to be less dependent on others for support anyway. So I began to work on myself with little changes. Paula was very happy I was trying so hard to take care of myself. But by that time, her world had gotten so small that sometimes I wasn't sure home much she understood what I was putting myself through. She was so racked with pain and so medicated most of the time that we didn't discuss "me" very much.
When Paula died, I was just stunned. I absolutely never thought it was going to come to this. Never. I knew she was very sick. It had gotten really bad. But I knew that they'd find the cause, and be able to get her to turn the corner. When that didn't happen, I was devistated. My first reaction was a tailspin. I wanted to skip the extra walking and exercises. I wanted to eat something. And I'm not talking veggies. I needed some comfort. Within a day I realized that I was doing it all wrong, and that I was not going to let myself go back to my old ways and lose the progress I had now worked two months to make.
My clothes were starting to fit differently. My walking was improving and my back/hip/leg/knee/foot pain was less. My stamina was improving, and my ability to work more hours was a definite plus. I couldn't allow myself to stop now. PLUS, I knew in my heart that Paula would want me to soldier on and get my "Jimness" back.
posted by Jim at 1:34 PM
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