Dunedin, New Zealand, my city - my people

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Back at work...Monday stewing.

From my Saturday 10k walk. The little boat looks so small next to the ship.
"Hello mountain my old friend." 
I meet interesting people on my walks.
Return to work
Three weeks ago today I had a TURP operation. The bits of paper from the hospital suggested...

  • Convalescence at home takes 3-6 weeks.
  • "Do not indulge in any activity which causes physical straining for six weeks ( e.g. digging in the garden, lawn mowing, playing golf, lifting heavy weights, sexual intercourse etc)"
  • avoid driving for six weeks!
How to completely emasculate a man!
Well I went back to work on Wednesday for the afternoon (6 hours) and must admit to feeling tired at the end of the day. Yesterday I conducted the morning service at Church. In my job you do not ever escape from work and I have been dealing with emails and phone calls for the past three weeks. This week I will return to work seriously.... though I may pace myself a bit.
Support...
I have been touched by the level of support I have received. I have a heap of "get well" cards, there has been constant phone calls and a number of people have visited bearing gifts. When I arrived back at Church yesterday there were genuine welcomes from the people.  To some degree I felt guilty because I felt a little "detached" yesterday. My time off has given me a glimpse of retirement so I went back into "harness" with a certain amount of, "I'll see this out to the end of the year" attitude. I will get back into it and get fire in the belly again. But I have been warmed by the level of support shown. I really have not had major surgery but these folk have treated me with that sort of concern. I think some of it is that I have very seldom been sick over the years.
A long time injury annoys...
My back went out on Wednesday morning. I went up a ladder to our manhole in the ceiling and at one stage, holding the manhole cover, I nearly fell off the ladder backwards, struggling to retain my balance. I think that did something and a few minutes later when I bent over to pick something off the floor, my back went out. Over 40 years ago I was a young plumber on a big building site. There were a number of young apprentices and we used to fight, chase and wrestle each other. It was harmless fun, but often got very boisterous crossing the line to down right dangerous. One time I was running from my friend and raced to the stairs. (the end of day whistle had gone) My friend lashed out at me with his steel capped boot and collected me on my lower spine. Every now and then down through the years that disc he hit goes "out".  It doesn't happen often and mostly my back is as strong as an ox. Every time it happens though, I remember and mutter, "That bloody Robin Greer!"  I find if I hang somewhere and walk it generally comes right.  We have a friend going through struggles at the moment. I wonder if her struggles and indeed a lot of the difficult mental health and relationship struggles we have are because deep in our past somebody "kicked us in the spine"? What emotional injuries do we carry that go "out" from time to time just like my back?
Mountain walk..
The bits of paper from the hospital do say that "Walking is the best exercise for recovery". I have been walking. I have tried to fit in at least a 4.5k walk every day, and sometimes have extended that to a 10k walk. I have enjoyed it. Yesterday I decided the time was right to reacquaint myself with my Mount Cargill. My wife has thought that this would fit the category of "activity that requires physical straining". Anyway yesterday she allowed me to drive myself (so good- I HATE being driven) to the Organ Pipe walking track and I enjoyed a strenuous walk up Mount Cargill. It was overcast but somehow so clear as I took in the familiar views. The bush and birdsong were amazing and I met some friendly people. (I think walkers by nature are friendly)  But I must tell you of one person I met. I had climbed to the top in very good time. I felt pleased with myself. I turned around and began the descent. There is a part close to the top that has a series of three steep stairways. I had just started down these when I met a couple I guess in their thirties. The woman was ahead of the man and I greeted her and we joked with a bit of banter. Then as she passed I met the man who greeted me cheerfully with the same warmth, but with slurred speech. He had cerebral palsy! His arms, feet, head and legs were totally uncoordinated! He was walking up the stairs at a reasonable pace, but my guess is that it must have taken incredible effort and concentration to do it! I was feeling pleased because three weeks after a small procedure I was still fairly fit and able. Here was a man dealt a difficult hand in life, tackling this mountain (big hill really) with vim and cheerfulness. I thought to myself that if I were in his position I might have decided climbing mountains was not my thing and stayed home watching TV feeling sorry for myself. I was so impressed with him and felt it was an inspiration to meet him. Complaining about my sore back suddenly seemed stupid.

1 comment:

Linda Myers said...

Sounds pretty strenuous to me. My husband doesn't wait as long as he should, either, after a surgery. Sometimes he gets away with it, sometimes not.