Undoable

Undoable: an awkward looking word. 

A word which, if given a good shaking or a vigorous pummelling, might possibly rearrange itself into something less awkward and clumsy-looking.

Awkward and clumsy is also a fitting description of how I looked and felt over the past two days when the list of apparently undoable activities was a lengthy one.

 However on the fourth day things are on the improve.  Many of those basic, everyday undertakings which were in the undoable category yesterday, are now doable.  Sure, there are limitations but the walrus roll and flounder to get out of bed  has given way to the wriggle and shuffle and the oh-so-smart idea of lowering of the bed, which means reaching the floor and slowly standing is now a far easier proposition. Why didn’t some-one tell me about this?

Struggling into the antique dressing gown, which has absolutely no stretch or give, is no longer an insurmountable problem and practise means the process is now streamlined.  All the attachments which had to be trailed around have been removed and each meal is now taken sitting out in the chair. 

Things are definitely looking up in the daily activities department. 

Coughing is no longer the difficult, painful process it was and a crafty plan has been devised to beat the machine that reveals how a patient’s lung capacity is not quite up to the desired reading.  The plans greatest craftiness lies in its simplicity; when the machine arrives at the bedside start breathing deeply and by the time the machine is hooked up the reading will be much higher.

Smart eh?

Neighbour Heather arrives unexpectedly in the early afternoon during the after-lunch rest time.  I am both surprised and impressed as due to past circumstances hospital visiting, especially to an oncology ward, is not high on her preferred activity list. 

I show off my improved getting-out-of-bed skills and move around to sit in the chair; we chat about this and that and she leaves two books for me to read. I came prepared with an easy-to-read book but I’ve found that my ability to concentrate on a one page magazine article is quite beyond me.  I will keep the books and  take them with me on my convalescence.

As NH leaves we walk down to take in the view from the small visitor/patient lounge area.  The hospital was built on a site near the top of a hill and windows in this area overlook the main street of the shopping centre, the stretches of suburbia beyond and off to the far distance, where the blue outline of the Yarra Ranges can be seen.

 I walk with my first visitor through the ward doors for the first time, all the way to the elevators; well outside the comfort zone of the ward. 

Today the elevators. Tomorrow? Maybe the café downstairs.