Cane in Hand

Been doing a lot of thinking today.  Lots of pain this weekend.  It’s getting worse instead of better.  It’s not a consistent downfall which is probably good, but there’s definitely not an improvement.  I haven’t called the acupuncturist yet- blame that on the social anxiety.  

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Went to the lake today to try and get the shots I wanted for my nature assignment which had to be uploaded by midnight (got them, and will post them here later)  This is the second time I’ve been down the lake since I finished chemo and even though there is still a lot of magic about it for me- it made me realize something today that I really didn’t want to.

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I need help.  

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Next to me, propped on the desk and leaning… is my new cane.

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My pain is getting worse and as it does- my mobility gets worse as well.  It gets  harder and harder for me to get to and from class, to and from stores, to and from… anywhere.  The lake was the big wake up call for me.  When I went out— last week? Week before?  First, I nearly fell off the pier.  The wind was high and I could barely keep my footing.  I left without getting the pictures I wanted.  I tried at another spot.  I got photos I needed for a different assignment- by sitting on the grass.  But as I tried to get up- I fell.  My feet went numb as I tried to get up and I bashed my knee.

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Today, I got my photos.   But I got them while clinging to a post.  I got them and barely made it back to the car.  Spent the rest of the day in even more pain.  Enough pain that when we went to the grocery store I actually did use one of the scooter carts- by choice.  

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I asked Kris if she still had any of her dad’s canes.  After we stopped at home and put up the groceries she went to her folks to tend to the birds, get the mail and all that- she came back with a new cane.  She stopped at CVS and got me my own.  It’s posh.  comfy handle, metallic marbled blue.

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:shrug:

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I know it’s meant to make things easier.  And I know it would have made today especially easier.

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But I can’t quite wrap my head around it either.  It’s all just so weird.  

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31 years old. 

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Cancer survivor.

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Handicap Placard in the car.

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Cane in hand.