Enough about me. Oh, …just one minute, while I get Cyndie a mirror. …Okay, I guess it is about me. I have never been this active in my life. Up and down and up again. I am the kind of person that likes to settle into a spot and remain there. But, it is a labor of love to serve my lovely wife. In fact, this post really is about Cyndie, after all. She is facing the situation of the broken bones in her knee with wonderful grace. As each day passes, she seems to gain confidence using her crutches to navigate additional tasks. She has successfully driven herself in Julian’s Jeep. Yesterday morning she sat on a stool at the stove and cooked me breakfast. I had almost forgotten what that is like. She is getting out in the sun, using the new “tractor seat” on wheels that I bought her for playing in the yard. Meanwhile, we have noticed that the thick skin on the sole of the foot of her injured leg is beginning to slough off as a result of not being used.

There is progress in directions favored, and not so favored.

Today is the first day of the bike trip that I am not on. Color me sad about that. In seeking the best outlook regarding this dreary reality, I am currently focused on the fact that I get to sleep in my bed for the next week, instead of on the ground. Unfortunately, that falls far short of making up for what I am missing.

Cyndie is doing her best to entertain me by trying to beat me in a game of Scrabble on her iPad. Here she is scheming her next big word while Kitty opens one eye to see what I am doing. Kitty is being a good companion for Cyndie and has snuggled under the spot where Cyndie needs to prop her leg.

Yesterday evening, while I was enacting the therapist-prescribed daily 1/2-hour walk, it occurred to me that I would usually get a lot of walking in during the week of the bike trip. When we reach a destination, we tend to park our bikes and walk the towns. Sometimes we will walk a mile or two in search of an ice cream treat. My walks for the next week will have me thinking aplenty of the antics my friends will be engaged in without me.

I am missing them all, deeply.

Here’s the deal. Loyal readers may have detected a brief pause in the previous routine of daily posts here at Relative Something. My world has gone all topsy-turvy. Not only have we seen our chance to visit Ian and family in Portugal dashed by Cyndie’s broken bones, but now my annual bicycle trip has been spoiled by the pain in my lower back.

It is my desire that the trials and tribulations I am experiencing lately not be repeatedly narrated here. It is difficult for me to avoid creating a whining rant of “woe is me.” Meanwhile, I have lost the discretionary time, not to mention the positive energy, which previously provided the resource I tapped for posting daily. I have been doing a bit more work in the kitchen than when Cyndie was in charge of food prep.

Yet, something tells me there is value to be mined from the foibles that I have been facing of late, especially if I am able to reveal lessons that unfold. You might think that having Cyndie down to navigating on one leg would calm things a bit around here and allow me the chance to write more. Currently, the small opportunity I thought I might find has been disrupted by the Scrabble game she downloaded for her iPad.

This game is downright addicting. To top it off, I have had a real lucky streak going and haven’t lost a game to her since we started playing this electronic techno version. Not having beat me yet seems to drive her to want to play even more. In fact, every time I get a thought flowing while trying to compose this post, that device makes the little briiiink sound, and she passes me the pad.

My deal may just be that I will be presented with a lesson on being a good loser very soon. There’s probably a 7-letter word for that.

Happy Birthday, Cyndie!

I have gone from hardly being able to move, to successfully riding my bicycle. I doesn’t make any sense to me. I did a little test ride last night and was able to stand and pedal, twist to look over my shoulder, climb a steep hill, and lean forward on a descent without pain. After I rode, I mowed the lawn and felt like I was able to bend more than I have in a week. Biking must be good for my back.

I wish I could trust that the disc wasn’t going to surprise me again at any moment with more painful degeneration. My initial physical therapy appointment isn’t until next Tuesday. That doesn’t leave me much time until the scheduled departure for my annual June bicycle trip. That will be a real test, with not only biking, but daily carrying my heavy duffel bag, setting up and taking down my tent, and especially, sleeping on the ground. That combination is enough to make a healthy back react with pain.

Feeling better physically does wonders for the mental state. Chronic pain is a dangerous affliction for someone with a history of depression. I feel like I am really walking a tight rope with something like this. I’ve lost my favorite therapeutic exercise in being told not to play my regular games of futsal on the wood floor, or any soccer, for that matter. Biking was authorized. It could become a real life-saver for me.

Photo by Cynthia A. Hays

It is a new day and what a difference a day can make. I am more focused in the present, probably because the future is so difficult to determine right now. Presently, I am experiencing a bit less pain and a bit more functionality. Luckily, the dramatic pain I experienced in the early hours of Monday morning did not linger into the rest of the day yesterday. We drove home through intermittent rainfall and the usual holiday weekend traffic. There were headlights trailing us in a line all the way to the horizon. It wasn’t too bad, because, for the most part, the folks in front of us were moving along close to the posted speeds.

We arrived home to some changes around our house. Our daughter has yet to close on the house for which she made an offer to purchase. Since it is now the end of the month, she needs to move out of her previous location. Our home is the perfect interim spot for her. To those of you who have been following along for a couple of years, you may realize that this means… Kitty has returned to our home!

The more things change, the more they seem the same. When we settled in, upstairs for the night, Kitty didn’t hesitate to hop up on the bed and curl up at our feet, just as if she never left.

How can I see anything of my situation as worthy of complaint?

To get the gist of this post, it should be read in the voice of Eeyore. I have met with the greatest test to my mental health of late. Early this morning, 3:30 a.m. to be exact, I found myself awakened by the searing pain of having rolled in my sleep, suddenly causing my failing disc to render me breathless and barely able to move. Panting, I fumbled my way to the pain pills I have been prescribed. Then, as I lie awake in the darkest hour of the night, my mind pondered the gloomy situation that has befallen me.

Among the many thoughts that occurred to me, I considered giving up on my attempts to post something fresh every day here in Relative Something. I am not sure that I want to chronicle my sorrowful mental state in this place which I intended to be a reflection of healthy thinking. Currently my thoughts are laboring under multiple burdens.

Granted, both Cyndie and I are feeling particularly sad over having gone through the process of canceling our plane tickets to Portugal for this coming July. The prognosis for the length of convalescence of her knee injury is being measured in months, and many of them. She was given the option to avoid surgery if she is successfully able to avoid putting any weight whatsoever on that leg for most of the summer! That is a long time on crutches.That is a long time to be unable to do things for herself. I have no idea how I will pick up the slack.

There will be many solutions available to us, but right now, we are still in the declining mindset of suffering the onset of our challenges and the uncertainties of the impact on our responsibilities. I remain undecided as to whether I will have the energy and inspiration to maintain my regular efforts here. That energy may be required elsewhere for a while. At least I accomplished something for today. If I do so again tomorrow, it needs to be in a voice other than Eeyore’s.

Yes, it is work weekend at the lake. We arrived safely last night and awoke this morning to the woods out our window!

Trillium are in bloom across the forest floor, the overnight weather was wet, but we have cool sunshine appearing between passing clouds.

While it is the weekend of chores to open up all of the properties and ready the boats and variety of summer vacation devices, Cyndie and I are on restricted duty. Cyndie did make it down to the lodge for the community breakfast, but ended up being the butt of a few jokes about getting out of the work.

Cyndie’s expression speaks volumes here, don’t you think?

Yikes! This gettin’ old stuff is definitely not for sissies. For most of my 50+ years I have successfully avoided serious back pain. My time is finally up. With no obvious trigger incident or activity for reference, all I can come up with for a cause of my current discomfort is the march of time. My symptoms match directly with all the descriptions Cyndie and I have read for degenerative disc disease of the lumbar region.

Gosh, this has never happened to me before. It’s stuff like this that makes me miss being that little kid I’ve seen in pictures from the early 60s. This is the point where brave people soldier on and learn pain management techniques and reclaim their previous level of activity. I’m more inclined to drop into a wheel chair and have someone push me up to the jigsaw puzzle table in the sunny corner of a room.

I’m finally able to grasp some of the effects of the experience of chronic pain. It has me thinking about all those years of naiveté where I viewed the world from my limited perspective. It wasn’t an intentional arrogance. It was a view of the world from a sheltered vantage point. I have found a new respect for those who make their way in the world under the duress of the oppressive weight of perceived pain.

I really, really loath becoming one of the people who whine about their plight of advancing age. Sure, I’d love to richly celebrate my increasing maturity with grace and aplomb. I would consider accomplishing that if it weren’t for the swelling prostate, degrading vision, diminished hearing, increasing allergies, advancing asthma, and now degenerating discs. And what the heck is the deal with eye brows suddenly bursting forth with growth in random directions?

I’ve got friends that are a decade and more ahead of me down this fateful path who are brilliant examples for me that continued living does not require whining about it all the time. They are a great inspiration. I’ve met my first situation of back pain and I am reduced to a blithering complainer. I am not proud.

The thing about suddenly prodigious eye brows… at least they’re not painful.