A Glimpse of Understanding

My alarm goes off at 4am. As I roll towards the clock to push the snooze button, I give myself a cursory examination of bodily pain. A couple of snoozes later I gently move toward the edge of the bed and cautiously put my feet on the floor. Just before I attempt to stand, I audibly say to myself, “Use your legs”. I am now standing and I get my first reading of my initial condition. My first couple of steps are very methodical as I check for stability. I move to the kitchen where a host of pills await me. Some are for pain, others are for nerve and muscle symptoms; the choices are mine to make. I choose the concoction, drink them down with a five-hour energy shot, and make my breakfast drink. I genuflect in front of the dog’s water and food bowls to refill and replace them. It is not an act of ceremonial reverence to the dog, it is just the safest way for me to lower myself down to the floor. After doing the dishes I slowly move around my apartment to finish my morning ritual. I open the blinds, straighten the pillows and cushions on the couch, make my bed, and dress for the morning walk with the afore mentioned dog. Every move is now done with specific intention and with the hope of being pain free; each day a spin on the roulette wheel of existence hoping for a good result while at the same time bracing for a physical toll to be levied.

I am not a senior citizen yet but I am definitely on the backend of middle-age. I am recovering from a surgery on my spine and while the healing process is not proceeding as quickly as it did when I was injured as a young man, I am slowly and methodically making my way back to normalcy. I have the physical pain which accompanies any post surgery convalescence but I am also burdened with fear of dire consequences as each step brings disaster into the realm of possibility. A slip or a stumble over a rise in the concrete could be a catastrophe. Incorrectly putting on my clothes could create further injury and negate the outcome the surgical procedure intended. The smallest of tasks have become individual litmus tests to measure the quality of my day. Each trip up and down the stairs is a task that is completed with a sense of relief or an uninvited twinge. Tying my shoes is either impossible because of lack of flexibility or an achievement that will elicit a private smile. The driver seat in the car provides comfort but the operation of the vehicle invites apprehension. My driving skills are still intact but I question my ability to react to the hazards of the road and other vehicles. The value of a destination is now measured against the location of parking. The level of vulnerability is a new and unwanted experience as I navigate the world; what was once a sense of invincibility is now infringed upon by physical fragility. Hyper-vigilance takes over as all things become the enemy of balance and physical safety. Defined results which were once a surety have dissipated into a diluted form of completion of task without incident. As progress slows and new pain emerges, the resolve to continue to give effort to my rehabilitation becomes mentally challenging.

Fortunately, I can take solace in the fact that all my past painful journeys have ended with a return to a life of unencumbered mobility. However, in the not too distant future, I will be of an age when there is no bright light at the end of the painful trip. When old age finds me, I will no longer struggle to my feet buoyed by the knowledge that it will get easier if I just do the work. My current condition has given me a greater appreciation of the internal fortitude that is demanded of those of advanced age. As I go through the process of rehabilitation, I have been given an insight into what elderly people face during their daily grind and the courage it must take to soldier on with little or no relief in sight. 

I hope that my prolonged struggle to return to physical health will firmly entrench an understanding of the obstacles those of advanced age face almost every waking moment. This I hope is not just an intellectual exercise of knowing but more a source of motivation that directly affects my future behaviors towards senior citizens. To intuitively recognize the reasons why the elderly person is driving or walking slow. To realize that their abilities to navigate the world are hampered by the fear of hurting someone or causing damage. To know that on some level, the aged amongst us are in physical pain and therefore have a diminished focus on the task at hand. To see that which is simple for me has become a dangerous puzzle for them. To give a larger path of kindness to those of advanced age because they do not fully comprehend the situation or the technology being used.

My current aches and pains are just a small sample size of what awaits me in the future; a fleeting snapshot of the existence of elderly people. It should not be difficult for me to remember to perspectively embrace and patiently apply this glimpse of understanding, after all I am only on the back end of middle-age; my memory is still strong.