The snow is slowly melting, but it is still nasty on the roads to walk while impaired. I am out of shape, out of breath. I fear I gained more than the 10 pounds I am sure of. I am slower and weaker. I fell a week or so ago. I was turning around in my tiny kitchen. My head hit the corner of the leg of the table before hitting the floor. My forehead was bruised, and probably further back above my ear it felt like my skull split, though blood did not poor out. I also skinned my elbow along with other ouchies. I fear having another stroke the most, second to that fear is falling. At least it is not in public. My next biggest fear post stroke is wetting my pants in public. It has not happened yet, but I have come too close.
So it has been almost exactly three years since “the big one” that knocked half of me down and changed my life. Progress is happening, but not fast enough. All the changes in healthcare reform I was passionate in seeing made fall by the wayside as I can barely take care of myself. I mean that literally. It takes my whole day to eat, bath, dress, change clothes again as I spill things frequently or piss my pants from not getting my pants down quick enough. I am constantly distracted from doing my necessary routine, which makes me forget important things like taking my meds, letting the dog out before noon, or mailing my sister’s birthday card that is sitting on my table (stamps just purchased are sitting on the ledge by the door). Her birthday is in 2 days.
Another attempt at helping volunteer for dog “justice” also gets put on the back burner. I can barely afford to take care of my own dog. Through the same mental illness that does not let me file my own paperwork, I have not been to the town to get her dog license. I also need to bring papers there to notarize so they know I want public septic installed on my property. Looking through stacks of papers today to find certain things that were never found, I came across several things I should have gotten to while wasting the winter away.