After the Fall…

Since I fell and badly broke my wrist on July 11th, 2014, my life has changed and things are totally different. The 5 1/2 hour surgery when two plates and 16 screws were inserted left me with a hand that doesn’t work like it should. It’s numb and hot and cold sensitive with little flexibility.

Yes, I get by, but even little jobs like peeling and removing the apple cores causes discomfort. (I tried to help John peel apples but my whole hand’s been sore since I did that little chore for about a half hour.)

I doubt if I’ll ever feel I can move and use it normally as I did before I fell.

As a result of this change in my life, things continue to change:

I’ve gained more weight because I’m less active.
I find walking and dancing more difficult because I’m fearful of falling again.
I’m less energetic because I’m not moving around as much (one breeds the other).
It’s an effort to do any housework, so it doesn’t get done.
Because I’m chubby, I feel old and unattractive.
My clothes don’t look good on me.

Oh, well… It could be worse. We can afford the best of care.

I still have my wonderful husband beside me and our life is pretty easy.

When we get to Florida, I’m sure I’ll be more active. I vow to go to exercise classes and walk more. I’ll feel younger.

Four years ago I wrote a blog post about feeling younger when in Florida.

At that time, I said, “Something about the Southern climate and attitude changes us. (snip) I’ll bet if a test could be done, we’d each de-age by 20 years. I can’t help but wonder if we stayed in the south all year if our age-regression would take us back to childhood.” I feel that way more and more. I can’t wait to be a kid again.

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