about my attitude toward being disabled
I have been off-line for a while dealing with my disability. Now I am officially disabled, which is good in some ways and not so great in other ways. It's good because I am getting disability payments, so can afford to stay in my house. It's not great because I'm disabled and not able to do everything I want to do - well, actually, not able to do most of what I want to do. So I'm applying the 3 C's to this situation.
I didn't cause my disability. I didn't do anything to bring about my disability other than live my life. I can spend a lot of time thinking "well, if only I hadn't spent time on Long Island, I wouldn't have been bitten by that tick and I wouldn't have gotten Lyme disease and the spirochetes wouldn't have been able to drill into my spinal discs" or "if only I had insisted on getting more extensive Lyme tests" or "if only I hadn't worked so hard, maybe I wouldn't have further weakened my back" or "if only I'd seen a different physical therapist" or any number of other things. There are so many possible "if onlys" and wishes that things had been different. They have two things in common: I feel terrible about myself when I essentially blame myself for not having been God, and they are complete fantasies. The "if only" has absolutely nothing to do with reality. And the reality is that I am now disabled. For good? I don't know. And that leads me to...
I can't control it. I can do what I am able to do, like resting and not lifting, bending, carrying, standing or sitting too much that I put strain on my back. I can do the exercises that don't aggravate my back or hip (I have degenerative disc disease compounded by a complete hip replacement). I can seek additional forms of physical therapy and body work to a) relieve the almost constant pain, and b) relearn how to move. And I can have patience and not give in to my frustration and depression about my physical limitations. I can do what is in my power to do - controlling the progression of my recovery is not within my power. Believe me, I've tried to speed things up - and guess what? I end up in bed for a week with even more excruciating pain. While I'm not in control of the pace of whatever recovery I will have, I am able to manage my attitude and behavior so I am as positive as possible and not reckless about endangering myself.
The last C - I can't cure it - is very hard to accept. I find it very difficult to accept that I may not recover from this disability. I want it over with, NOW. And that's just not happening. I can learn to live with it. Accepting that my disease and disability are incurable can perhaps be freeing, just as other admissions of powerlessness are freeing. If I'm not focusing energy on hopeless crusades, then I can focus on what I am able to deal with.
I just never really understood how much of life is for the completely able-bodied. I took my physical ability for granted - as was appropriate. It's only now that I understand how much of the mind's activity is linked to physical activity. Learning how I can still have an active mind without a similarly active body - that is the work ahead of me.
I didn't cause my disability. I didn't do anything to bring about my disability other than live my life. I can spend a lot of time thinking "well, if only I hadn't spent time on Long Island, I wouldn't have been bitten by that tick and I wouldn't have gotten Lyme disease and the spirochetes wouldn't have been able to drill into my spinal discs" or "if only I had insisted on getting more extensive Lyme tests" or "if only I hadn't worked so hard, maybe I wouldn't have further weakened my back" or "if only I'd seen a different physical therapist" or any number of other things. There are so many possible "if onlys" and wishes that things had been different. They have two things in common: I feel terrible about myself when I essentially blame myself for not having been God, and they are complete fantasies. The "if only" has absolutely nothing to do with reality. And the reality is that I am now disabled. For good? I don't know. And that leads me to...
I can't control it. I can do what I am able to do, like resting and not lifting, bending, carrying, standing or sitting too much that I put strain on my back. I can do the exercises that don't aggravate my back or hip (I have degenerative disc disease compounded by a complete hip replacement). I can seek additional forms of physical therapy and body work to a) relieve the almost constant pain, and b) relearn how to move. And I can have patience and not give in to my frustration and depression about my physical limitations. I can do what is in my power to do - controlling the progression of my recovery is not within my power. Believe me, I've tried to speed things up - and guess what? I end up in bed for a week with even more excruciating pain. While I'm not in control of the pace of whatever recovery I will have, I am able to manage my attitude and behavior so I am as positive as possible and not reckless about endangering myself.
The last C - I can't cure it - is very hard to accept. I find it very difficult to accept that I may not recover from this disability. I want it over with, NOW. And that's just not happening. I can learn to live with it. Accepting that my disease and disability are incurable can perhaps be freeing, just as other admissions of powerlessness are freeing. If I'm not focusing energy on hopeless crusades, then I can focus on what I am able to deal with.
I just never really understood how much of life is for the completely able-bodied. I took my physical ability for granted - as was appropriate. It's only now that I understand how much of the mind's activity is linked to physical activity. Learning how I can still have an active mind without a similarly active body - that is the work ahead of me.
posted by julieannerickson at 11:11 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home