Ever since my world turned upside down earlier this year, I have tried hard not to dwell on wondering how long I have to wait until I return to my usual, fairly fit self.
I can be a patient soul, but it has proven difficult to maintain, as I have discovered that I absolutely hate being incapacitated.
You would think I might appreciate being waited on, but I definitely don’t.
With the best will (and some pretty amazing determination, even for me) I have slowly managed to rebuild some of the strength in my legs, until I fell several times and damaged my knees, that is.
That was when I began to worry about my future, or the lack of one.
I have been worrying about this for a while now, although other thoughts have been banging at my head trying to get in too.
At 81, maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about my future? Just be grateful for what I have had already?
Well, maybe not much of a future. Common sense suggests that there is so much wrong with me, some of which cannot get any better, that it could just be a matter of time.
So, why am I sure there is so much more of my life to come? Is it just wishful thinking, or am I getting glimpses of things to come?
Waiting lists notwithstanding, of course…
hoping you all have a wonderful week!
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