Grin and Bear It

For a few months now, I've grown increasingly dependent upon the calendar to tell me the day. My days have been blurring together for so long now. It's not unusual for me to forget to do things that need to be done on a specific day of the week...

"Oh, today is Sunday? I'd better get ready for online church!"

"Did I water the plants yesterday? Or is today watering day?"

"This is the last day of the month?!?"

For the last six or so weeks, keeping track of time has been even more difficult because Lizard and I had to pause our daily walks. On approximately the 73rd consecutive day of our refreshing albeit slow and sometimes labored walks, he twisted his old knee (which he humorously refers to as the only non-bionic bone left in his body). The resulting meniscus tear and stress fracture demanded six weeks of rest. Rest, with Parkinson's, is not only a nearly impossible state of being, but stillness (on the rare occasions it is achieved) also magnifies symptoms.

People with Parkinson's don't die of Parkinson's. They die from falls caused by Parkinson's. One of the symptoms Lizard has battled for more than a year is formally designated "Parkinson's rigidity". The stiffness Lizard experiences, somewhat akin to arthritis, can render his legs unmalleable and easy to fracture. This most recent owie has taught us, via necessity, the new sometimes hourly routine of massaging rigid muscles to attempt to nurture the supple and springy properties muscles should provide.

Photographically, the last nearly 13 - no, make that 16 -- months have been bad enough. It's really difficult to keep a five-times-a-week mostly photo blog going when the only photos you can take are in your own front or backyard. Inspiration suffers, too. I'm sure talent is wedged tightly in there as well. Plus, I've become a full-time caregiver in addition to my day job, and now I'm trying to be a physical therapist.

These are not complaints. I feel very blessed to be able to stay home and take care of the one I love the most.

But I'm not so sure anything in my life is worth blogging about anymore. I've also become somewhat shy and reclusive again, probably thanks to the pandemic. (Lizard just reminded me I've always been shy. I never stopped being shy.) I'm just not as gung-ho about putting myself (or Lizard) out there anymore. I actually find myself dreading weekends (when I realize they are upon me) because it means I have to fill my blog again, and I just don't feel motivated right now. I feel like a turtle who has pulled her head back into her protective shell.

So I have entertained the prospect of going radio silent (or internet silent?!?) again for a while. There are some luscious benefits to stepping away for a while. And yet, journalism is in my blood. Challenging myself has been my mantra for so long, I don't know what my life would look like without deadlines and pressure.

And there would be no accountability. I would have no reason to get all those photos from last year processed. I would have no reason to crochet. I would have no reason to quilt unless someone in the family has another baby. (Oops! Shouldn't have said that!!! Twin niece is now expecting #5!!!)

Plus, where would I report our new walking streak? Where would I announce any new groundbreaking developments in Lizard's progress? What would happen to the community that has supported me for 12 years now, even when I fail to return blog visits and comments? In this time of social conditioning, my blog community is just about my only community. I don't want to lose that.

So I will press on. I will keep telling myself I can do this. I will look for joy instead of pressure. And I will be thankful for the people who keep me coming back here to this space.

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