As I said in my previous post, "My wife's shoulder surgery is a growth opportunity for me," since Laurel had shoulder replacement surgery last Tuesday, I've been her caregiver -- and will be for the 4-6 weeks she'll have to wear a sling on her right arm (we're hoping for four weeks).
Until you can't use an arm for much, it's difficult to know all the things you won't be able to do anymore. We're rediscovering those things, since Laurel had rotator cuff surgery on the same arm about ten years ago that also required her to use a sling for a month. Of course, we were a decade younger then, so everything is a bit tougher now that we're in our mid-70s rather than mid-60s.
I've been having to do a lot more around the house than I usually do.
For example, Laurel used to walk our dog in the morning and I did it most afternoons. Now I handle both walks. We shared cooking duties before her surgery. Now I have to help Laurel with her meals, unless it's a simple one that doesn't require two hands. For the first 48 hours my wife was constantly using a machine with a timer to ice her shoulder, 40 minutes on, 20 minutes off. My job was to rotate three sets of 12 frozen water bottles into the machine every eight hours, making sure a thoroughly frozen set always was available.
What I've discovered from all this extra taking care of Laurel is that the more I'm focused on her needs, the less it bothers me when something goes wrong in my life. This both surprised and pleased me. The first time it happened, it felt like I'd taken a pill that reduced the sensation of the problem I was having by about half.
Meaning, what used to irritate me considerably now irritated me only a little. It was as if constantly putting Laurel's needs before my own, even for just a couple of days, considerably lowered the feeling of Me I normally carry around. Having less Me rattle around in my mind, and more She (my wife), left less for an irritation to latch onto.
Someone asked in a comment on my first post about Laurel's surgery why I'd said that she had doubts about the surgery beforehand. The basic reason is that my wife still could use her right arm, and with physical therapy sometimes it didn't even hurt her. Since all surgery has risks, Laurel had to weigh the pros and cons of shoulder replacement surgery.
In the recovery room, where we got instructions for post-operative care, Laurel mentioned to her doctor that she hadn't been sure whether she really needed the surgery. The doctor unhesitatingly said, "You did; though you don't have a complete rotator cuff tear, it would have torn completely at some point." This made us both feel better, especially since the surgery went well. It strengthened my feeling that as difficult as it will be for my wife and me in the next 4-6 weeks of recovery, that will pay off with an increased quality of life for Laurel once she can use her right arm with confidence again.
So I'm doing my best to adjust to the changes in my routine caused by my new caregiver role. I used to enjoy my hour or so of reading and meditation time in the morning. Now I have to take our dog for a walk then. Mooka is a very active Husky mix who needs two lengthy walks a day, which are mostly off leash since we live in a rural area with nature trails on easements through the properties in our development.
Yesterday I was walking with Mooka to our nearby 9-acre community lake. I'll share a photo of it that I took as we were crossing the earthen dam. Our house is in the trees at the far end of the lake, about in the middle of the photo. Our ten acres doesn't adjoin the lake, but just one lot separates us and the lake.
Soon after Mooka and I started our walk, I'd been idly thinking about how I wasn't going to have time to meditate that morning and would have to squeeze in some meditation time later in the day. Then it dawned on me, That's crazy talk. In my current frame of mind, meditation is simply being as fully aware as possible of what I'm experiencing. I'm on a walk now. If I can be fully aware of that walk, this is meditation, just as sitting in a chair with eyes closed is.
That realization brought peace of mind. I stopped worrying about missing my meditation time, because any time is meditation time if it's mindful. I knew this before, but it took the big change in my routine following Laurel's surgery to truly grasp what I already knew conceptually.
Beautiful place you live in Brian.
Itś also fine to see your work for your wife as meditation.
When feeling that way ´everything´can be meditation..
That is because of what you have done..all the years ..
I myself try to do that also..everything in that ´light´
Strength for both of you _/\_
Posted by: s* | October 18, 2024 at 02:44 AM
And another one!
All the best to you and your wife.
Posted by: manjit | October 18, 2024 at 04:03 AM
A vegetarian diet impairs healing after surgery. Collegian is vital for healing, and no vegetarian sources provide the high-quality collagen found in bone broth, beef, and seafood.
I know this sounds rude. It felt rude to say it. Why? Because vegetarianism is as strong a credo as the Nicene. People take their dietary choices very seriously. Not just the veg fans, but also the meat eaters.
Then again, to trump for atheism is usually taken as rude. As rude as to trump for Jesus. Or trump for Trump. Diet and politics as as much of a religion as religion. Even he most convinced of being pellucidly clear eyed and pristinely rational is still in thrall of some degree of zealotry and dogma.
Then again, every obnoxious advice giver does have his saving grace: his advice just might be of practical value. At the very least he intends it to be such. I trust we all do. Best wishes for a speedy recovery.
Posted by: sant64 | October 18, 2024 at 05:59 PM
@ Brian. “I stopped worrying about missing my meditation time, because any time is meditation time if it's mindful.”
Some teaching and teachings remark on the difference between doing and being in that for many, meditation can become just another thing, something to be doing, something one does. Being on the other hand is being, being with just this, no matter what is arising in the moment being with that is meditation.
It is though, quite difficult for us to just be. We habitually fill each moment with thoughts and activities which render us living in the past, or projecting into an imaginary future – which is living in thought, in concepts. We can’t be still for very long before we either scroll through our smart phones, switch on the radio or TV, mull over some past event or project some hoped for or anticipated future happening.
Doing (although of course natural and necessary) becomes a non-stop habitual activity and is the antithesis to being. One story I like that describes this: - A student approaches another. “What are you doing?” “Nothing he replies.” “Then you are just sitting there?” “If I were just sitting here, I’d be doing something.” “What is this nothing you are not doing.” “Even the Buddhas do not know.”
Posted by: Ron E. | October 19, 2024 at 07:19 AM