Sylvia's Journal

I have pondered a few times how I will know when to stop writing this journal. Someone said, well that should be clear, when you are all healed and there is nothing to tell anymore. Can our lives ever be like that, I wondered? Will they ever be so normal that there is nothing to tell? So normal that we would simply get up in the morning, dress, make breakfast, go to work, and all that without effort? In our slow journey of healing we compare today with yesterday and some days it feels like nothing has changed. And we quietly wonder, will we ever get there? Will this foot ever turn left, this arm lift up, these fingers grip, the wrist respond from a simple command from the brain?

When Axel got discouraged some days ago, his occupational terrorist, as he calls her endearingly, told him to not look for the kind of progress that is visible from one day to another because it wouldn’t be there. She reminded him to look two weeks back or even a month. It was good advice. We are encouraged by progress that shows up when we look at pictures taken in early August or even late July; or when a friend comes for a visit who hasn’t seen us for a month; or when we read a journal entry from long ago.

Yesterday I started physical therapy to help increase my range of motion in my neck and right arm. The PT takes measurements at the first visit to serve as a baseline. Baselines are good because they show that there is progress even though it doesn’t feel like progress. She sent me home with lots of exercises which, added to the ones for my foot, begin to claim a good chunk of the day, starting with exercises in the shower, followed by icepacks, heating the foot, exercises, more ice packs; then the hot and cold footbaths and exercises during, then exercises with my right upper arm, preceded by heat packs and followed by icepacks. Our refrigerator is full of these things, crowding out ice cream and other goodies and relegating our frozen reserve meals to the fridge in the basement.

Axel had blood work done in the morning to determine whether his iron level is back to normal and he can stop taking the iron pills which he detests because they constipate and they produce pitch black turds. The rest of the day Axel was quite busy and remarkably like his former self. He spent much time talking and writing with Jody Morse first, and Joe Sterling later about sustainability of towns, urban planning and the politics of economic development as applied to a small town (Manchester) and a big city (San Diego).

I sent off a series of emails announcing to my colleagues and leadership teams around the world that I am back in the saddle. I was heartened by their enthusiastic responses, not just about having me back but what they accomplished while I was out of the game. It is both worrisome and very satisfying that the work continued just fine without me.

Gail Gall came by at lunchtime with a lamb stew for dinner. She and Axel spent some time catching up on news about her career and kids as he was napping during her last visit. In the afternoon Axel went to Andrew’s house to work on computer stuff and in the evening he went to a meeting of the town democratic committee. I have a feeling that the time left open by his absence from school this semester will be filled with involvement in town development and politics.