Accident hell has left me so bored
DEAR BEL,
UNTIL six months ago I was a normal, divorced woman: 66, active, solvent and busy.
I did voluntary work, looked after two lively grandsons a couple of days a week, walked my dogs for miles every day and regularly took off with them and a tent in the back of my car. A wonderful life.
Then I had a serious accident — not life-threatening but life-changing. Released from hospital but initially unable to cope on my own, I was welcomed into my son’s home and looked after really well.
As I’m very independent, I came home at the earliest opportunity and learned to adapt. I can do my own housework, tend my garden, shop and walk my dogs, despite constant pain.
My consultant is pleased with my progress, but I think he’s judging me in terms of what he believes an older person should be like. But my old life disappeared and no one can tell me if I will get it back. They say rehabilitation may take 12 to 18 months and that I may never fully recover.
I know others are much worse off, and I try to stay positive, but limited mobility is frustrating. I can’t do my voluntary work or look after my grandsons (as it would require driving) or go off camping.
Bel, I am so bored! Trying to fill 16 hours a day with interesting activities within my capabilities is challenging. I potter around my house and garden, go out for short periods, do my exercises, read a lot, watch TV a little and chat to friends online and on the phone.
But it feels like Groundhog Day. Any ideas how I can fill the rest of my time?
PAT
FIRST, you have my sympathy; what happened to you has been a colossal shock and you’re only just coming to terms with it. I know that when I had my hip replaced in February 2017, it took much longer than I expected to recover, both mentally and physically. And that was just a routine operation. Hobbling about on sticks made me feel pretty useless and decrepit — and I hated it.
Like you, I fancy myself as much younger than my actual age. So it was a shock to the system.
Having said that, when my daughter worked for the Armed Forces charity Help for Heroes, she met many brave men who had lost limbs in Afghanistan. So everything is relative, isn’t it?
Nevertheless, individual problems always loom uniquely large — and need to be worked through, even if superficially trivial.
The first thing to be said is you have to be easy on yourself. There is no choice. The accident happened just six months ago, which is a short time in recovery terms.
You probably should have stayed longer with your kind son; determined independence can be a double-edged sword. But now you’re at home, with old activities curtailed, you need to start a project to see you through the winter. Have you thought about writing about your life for your grandsons? This would be a useful thing to do.
Of course, it will take research, from what was going on in the world the day you were born, through all the stages of your life, setting the personal in context. One day I want to do this.
I suggest you start by getting hold of the book Your Life, Your Story: Writing Your Life Story For Family And Friends, by Cherry Gilchrist. It’s full of marvellous ideas to get you going and to keep encouraging you if you flag.
You’ll have to collect together photographs and have them copied if necessary. What you do with the material in the end depends on how much you want to spend. Some go for private publication; for others, it’s enough to make a superb scrapbook.
Either way, it’s an exciting activity and a precious document for the future. Gilchrist writes: ‘It is my firm belief that all individuals count for something, that everyone has a story to tell and that the telling of that story enriches humanity itself.’
That thought should inspire you. So, go for it!