Limping Along

The last general update friends and acquaintances have asked about is life in general. Pre Charcot foot, the passive answer was "Hanging in." Now it is "Limping along."
This summer is the first season in seven or so years that I have not bowled in a league. The timing of the hospitalization interfered with the season start, and the "Crow boot" I must now wear will take some finagling and readjustment. I do intend to resume in the fall.
Mobility issues have me more limited, and my third- and fourth-floor townhouse-style apartment is less than ideal for someone who can no longer see nor feel stairs. I moved the computer to the dining room to get it on the main floor, but have not yet gotten the desk down stairs. As a result, I feel as though I have lost both the office and the dining room and the house feels like much less than what I bought.
This adds to the emotional depression that I feel funny admitting "aloud." People seem amazed at how well I’ve been dealing with the adversity of the last few years, so admitting that it has been and continues to be a struggle illogically feels as though I am letting some people down. The disabilities that have afflicted me have also catalyzed a new level of emotional depression.
The depression is worsened biochemically. Especially since the early Mat hospitalization, I have been keeping the blood sugar at lower levels. This has been good for circulation to the foot and behind the eye, but not good for temperament and feeling happy. The prednisone intake also contributes to those factors.
I stopped taking the generic Prozac after the hemorrhage, when the side effect of "suicidal thoughts and feeling" would irregularly arise. The quality of life issues have not improved, so I continue to avoid pharmaceutical anti-depressants.
I am adjusting to and struggling to accept my increased limitations. I force myself to adopt gratitude for what I can still do.
Most of the things I can still do cannot be done for as long. Gone are the days of 12+ hour exerting days; my stamina is not what it used to be. Gone are the marathons on the word processor; my eyes burn out after a couple hours.
What is not gone is my drive and the fiery will. This feeds the cycles of frustration as often as not.
I am working to do more with myself. I’ve been getting back to posting more regularly on the blog and am working on keeping up with short story submissions again. The next step with the fiction is to get some partially-done short stories finished
I’ve done a couple spots of yard work recently, minor accomplishments but more than most people in with my limitations would attempt, I think.
So I have had to slow down, but I have not stopped. Don’t cringe at the thought of a blind gimpy guy swinging a powered hedge trimmer over rough terrain. Just don’t get too close.