Sundays - Past and Present

It felt fantastic to workout at the other rehab yesterday. Afterwards, I found a white jean's jacket, a t-shirt and a new yoga shirt at Kohl's. They do have amazing sales! It rained on and off but the sun came out around 6PM, too late to dry the gardens out for cutting today.

This morning, I have to run Michael over the hill then pick him up later in the afternoon at Jim's here on the coast. While over the hill, I am going to hit the other rehab again. Good for my thighs!

We are excited by the return of Mad Men tonight. Love/hate that Don Draper but really love noticing the costumes and hair styles from the past. No Formula 1 race this weekend but the Giant's will be playing this afternoon. And to round out my day, I will be washing and ironing our sheets. All good things on a Sunday.

What do I miss on Sundays since my ILD diagnosis?
I miss the feeling of being exhausted and spent after being out late with friends on Saturday night.
I miss getting up early, dressing up and going to church.
I miss Sunday afternoons at the movies.
I miss our all-day walks through town then up and down the coast.
I miss our bike rides.
I miss our hikes up into the hills.
I miss our walks into town for breakfast then a nice slow walk home.

It became clear that with the immune suppressant drugs that it was not wise to be around any groups of people: church, plays, movie theatres, concerts. I also had no stamina and was not on supplemental oxygen for almost a year after my lung biopsy. I remember being unable to walk just steps without being short of breath and being so jealous of someone casually walking along the street. I so wished I could walk out in the world again. It was that feeling that motivated me to seek a pulmonary rehab program. Once there, I grabbed it and pushed myself so hard that the RN made me promise not to do anymore than what she approved. I never wanted to feel so weak again. Building muscles and stamina was my goal.

Here I am functioning, ten years into the disease, almost nine years after being diagnosed. I can walk on the pedwalk along the beach with an oxygen tank on my back. I can play with my little orchestra. I can really do what I need/want to do except be around crowds of people. That is little enough compensation to protect myself from infections.

It worked. All the years of pushing myself everyday has paid off. I am still here, alive, out into the world and living well with a bad diagnosis.