(Re)visiting

I spent most of Saturday catching up with a friend who lives in Ottawa.

It occurred to me while waiting for him to arrive that I’d last seen him more or less exactly a year ago. The circumstances then were quite different: I was in acute care at the time, I heavily relied on help for the majority of my ADLs, and I couldn’t move much. I was in the initial phases of reimerging, of finding myself. Everything felt uncertain. I was scared, weak, and embarrassed.

He came to the hospital bearing homemade cupcakes in celebration of my approaching birthday. It was a reminder of how expansive, generous, and beautiful my support network is, of the many reasons I have to embrace this second chance. I ate the cupcakes, something I wouldn’t have been able to bring myself to do mere months earlier. Still, I couldn’t yet tolerate more than a short visit. Socializing was exhausting, as was sitting in my wheelchair for more than a few minutes.

I’ll admit that I was a little nervous before he arrived on Saturday. Not because I wasn’t looking forward to spending time with him—I mostly certainly was—but because I didn’t want to … disappoint him, I guess? I dunno.

It’s weird, straddling two worlds. Although I feel as if I have something to prove (one of my best and worst qualities) and want to live “normally,” whatever that means, I frequently hit speed bumps that somehow manage to surprise me even when they’re painted bright orange and outfitted with obnoxiously bright and flashing warning lights alerting me that I should slow down and pace myself. No, thank you very much, says my stubborn brain. I’ll keep barreling toward you at full throttle because LOOK AT ME GO. The result, of course, is a giant crash after what, to be fair, is an exhilarating joy ride.

But I’m getting better at reluctantly accepting that if I want to take my wheels out for a spin, I have to give my engine time to, uh, cool down between drives. (OK, I’ll stop with the vehicle metaphors, which are especially inappropriate since I can’t legally operate a car.)

To make a long story shortish, the hours he was here went by like a flash and were brimming with good conversation, another new first (restaurant!), and lots of reflection. I was able to be proactive in taking care of my body by lying down for a bit, which allowed me to enjoy more of the afternoon with him.

I’ll be perfectly honest: there’ve been some rocky moments, moodwise, this past week. I’ve been experiencing some literal pains (in the butt, to be precise), and I’ve been quicker to get caught up in wallowing about stuff that doesn’t really merit the self-pity in which I’ve indulged. It’s important for me to remind myself, then, of everything that’s going right. So much. So, so much.

Thanks again, friend, for giving me the reminder I needed. Now it’s my turn to travel to you.