"A stunned or bewildered condition: befuddlement, bewilderedness, bewilderment, daze, fog, muddle, mystification, perplexity, puzzlement, stupefaction, stupor, trance."
Yeah, this year since the very first day, I've been a bit all of that.
If this sounds like a preface to a daily entry that will be steeped in self pity and wallowing, you're right. It is my name and picture at the top of this blog. I can do what I want. Please feel free to come back tomorrow for some comedy.
For those of you suckers who stayed...
Right from January 1, 2012, this has been a year that I will ultimately like to forget. On New Year's Day, sitting in the Aero Theater for a Marx Brothers double feature. Dealing with what I would later discover was a torn left meniscus. A good knee that now was also a bad knee. Struggling to get up out of the theater seat. Virtually crawling up Santa Monica's Montana Avenue to get to my car.
Beyond the usual up and downs that life always seems to present, 2012 would be called in my lexicon "The Year of Immobility." MRIs, canes, arthroscopic surgery, and a few painkillers. These were the days of my life so far this year. A slow moving soap opera. At times, incredibly slow moving. Against me, snails are the big winners of every race.
Yes, I guess there are countless people whose issues are a lot worse than mine. I should be thankful for what I have. But it is becoming harder every day when the world is passing me by. Literally.
Three things (well, people, in two cases) have saved me from complete despair the past summer months. Nightly Dodger baseball. And the help of my personal trainer and my physical therapist. Those two have worked diligently to keep me as mobile as I can be. Indeed, most of my body has been strengthened immeasurably. Muscles are defined like never before. Core strength has rarely been this good. Yet, as taut as my calves and my thighs are right now, they still are connected by those joints which are reminiscent of sound effects from the worst haunted house movie you can remember.
Beyond the physical work, Team Len, as I call them, have also acted as mental therapists. The only two people I feel comfortable talking to about the increasingly limited mobility I will have to endure until I go for the extreme fix with parts likely purchased at your local Home Depot. They understand how difficult it has become for me, a person with limited self esteem, to become even more compromised.
It all became very highlighted over Labor Day weekend. I had a friend visiting from Texas and there were activities every day. Two Dodger games. Two Hollywood Bowl events with the biggest hills this side of the Rockies. An extended walk-through of the Reagan Library. And, of course, the rigorous piece de resistance---Disney California Adventure, where you are seemingly still walking even if you're standing still.
I got through it all. But noticed it was even harder this time. And I started to pay attention to people I was with. While I know a lot of this is imagined, I sensed being a burden to the group. When folks suddenly found themselves a block and a half ahead, they would stop for me to catch up. "Oh, wait. We forgot. Him." And I'd catch up only to be lagging again within the next thirty seconds.
I've always been active. I've always acted as ringleader amongst friends. I can't do it in my current capacity. And I don't know if I will survive that downgrade of physicality. I'm not good at feeling bad.
Now I'm thinking of some extreme actions. There are some unconnected dates and deadlines next spring that will require some change in living location. Do I remain bi-coastal? Or pack it in for a solitary coast and residence? Go for the big fix that can have me bouncing like a rubber ball. If I opt for that and the resultant three-month recovery period, do I simply have the surgery on the east coast where my life is a bit more compact and where I have more friends available and willing to help out? On the flip side, there will be 2013 Dodger baseball. Even as alone as I sometimes feel on the West Coast, how can I replace that?
I am painfully aware that, despite all the good work I am doing with my therapist and my trainer, it is not fixing the big issue. I am simply toning my body to make the ultimate recovery process a bit faster.
This is just more of the same. Discombobulated. Befuddled. Perplexed. Bewildered. Beyond the knees, I look at my current situation and wonder what's up. I have two houses, but essentially no home. Life that is half empty and half full. For that particular repair, there is no surgeon's knife available.
Perhaps, for now, I will just let the day turn into night and back into day again. There is no easy answer today. Tomorrow might have it. Or the day after. I will just see what the fates have in store and take it slowly.
And taking it slowly, I am very, very, very good at.
Dinner last night: Chef's salad.
4 comments:
1. The burden was imagined, as you opined. 2. You have at least two or morefolks here, I know of, many more I don't who will help out if you deicde to surgerate in LA. Is the crowd in NYC that much bigger but more importantly, available during the day? 3. Discombobulation is understandable indeed. You've had a tough year. No need to compare to the world at large and justify.
Why not get some head therapy before making decisions about relocating? I don't know how living in Yonkers solves anything. The weather will be worse, the walking more difficult in rain/snow/cold. You really want to negotiate midtown crowds every day? You'll still be living alone in an apartment.
You have a family of friends in L.A. who can help and don't want you to leave.
hopefully your feeling more optimistic today and realize that recovery or won't be as debilitating has you might think. and more importantly, you have more than enough friends to assist with your quick and complete recovery. fortunately, when you leave the hospital you will be able to get around on your own even be able to walk up stairs. if you get the surgery done shortly after the new year, you'll be sprinting up the aisles at Dodger Stadium by opening day.
15avebud
Leo, talk him out of moving.
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