I’m scheduled for surgery later this month. I won’t say when or for what, because privacy. I’ll just say it’s a mechanical thing that will make me more mobile. My physical therapist is having me walk with two canes so I’m more stable. I’ve also been swimming laps every other day or so at pools that have stringent covid protocols. I’m getting stronger, my lungs and heart are in great shape, so I believe I’ll do well during my surgery and recovery.
But I have one worry: will it happen? With covid cases rising will the hospital have to postpone elective surgery? Will the rehab center I plan to go to have room for me? I sure hope so! I have a lot of dancing to make up for, and hiking, and long walks, and being able to tolerate riding in the car without pain. Swimming is excellent, but I want move just as easily on land as I do in water.
If people in Tucson follow covid guidelines, I’ll be good to go. If not, it’ll suck, but I’ll be okay. People shouldn’t be getting infected, becoming ill, and dying in such great numbers; and I shouldn’t have to cross my fingers hoping that my long planned-for surgery will actually happen.
But I have Medicare and even though I’ll end up paying my full out-of-pocket costs this year, I can manage it because I have help. Not so for millions of people who’s lives have become unmanageable–and unimaginable–during this criminally mismanaged crisis. It’s not like in AA where people can only recover after they admit they are powerless over their disease and their lives have become unmanageable. Instead, it’s as if we’re blinded by our addiction to powerlessness, and can’t see how easy it is to take care of ourselves and each other. It may feel like a hardship, but it isn’t hard.