I have a deep vein thrombosis.
It doesn’t hurt. The treatment is two pills a day and a made-to-measure elastic popsock.
But last week I was throwing a tantrum because I’m not allowed to do anything that raises my heartrate. This includes cycling, brisk walking, and gardening – exactly the kinds of things I like to do on sunny autumn days. I had so much work planned for the garden. And hasn’t the weather been perfect for autumn gardening? Still, sunny, a little rain.
But the nurse’s instruction to do nothing but “potter” was for three weeks only, so why was I making such a fuss? Last week I was weeping down the phone at my saxophone teacher. It wasn’t just the infirmity, but the shock. So I really am mortal: it’s something I thought I always bore in mind. Apparently not. I need to get over my impatience and frustration and grow up. I need to be a stoic like my mother and my sisters.
On Saturday I read a cheerful piece by a journalist who is a tetraplegic after a riding accident, and it made me realise how little I have to complain about.
So I’m over it…which is why I can now confess it all to you, dear readers.
2 comments:
Glad you have the best treatment for this Sue. Wise words as always! Am I right that this is a legacy of long distance flying? Wise too to take great care of yourself now!!
Thanks, Ana.
Long distance flying does increase the risk, yes. But there are other risk factors too.
In any case, I have been told that in future I should get up and walk every half hour during a flight.
Post a Comment