Note: At the end of this post are links to previous posts about my lung disease. I’ll keep these links at the end of each subsequent post or figure out how to add a Table Of Contents.
What a week, what a week.
Maybe you’ve heard? My first earthquake, and you knew it was one. We get to joke about it, sounding like a huge truck coming up the street and a flower pot ringing out but let’s face it, we are glad it wasn’t worse (though the speed of the local stations to develop over-the-top graphics and music for it was amazing).
Then came Hurricane Irene and another chance to Twitter and joke about it, but only because the worst we had around my neighborhood was a 14 hour power outage. Irene caused the most damage just when you started to think that the whole storm was a big overreaction. If you don’t believe me, just look north to Vermont.
Of course, all the blowing and shaking coincides with some updates on my pulmonary rehab and my lung disease. While nothing out of the ordinary occurred during it, much good stuff actually happened.
As of now, I am completing my 4th week of pulmonary rehab. It is starting to approach what I hoped it would accomplish. The odd thing might be that while a physical goal was part of the plan, the more abstract goal was what I really wanted the most: to be able to get some real life feel for what my limitations and abilities would be going forward.
I wanted my confidence back.
One of my biggest fears and concerns revolved around how this would affect what I used to do and experience. While I was not a world traveler by any means, I was an active participant in my professional life and a good fun friend in my personal life. I knew my stuff, I am not bashful to say. I shared that knowledge and wanted more. I shared my experiences and wanted new ones. I shared my friendship and wanted even stronger ones.
Once I was laid off and then diagnosed with NSIP, those all seemed to move far away from me, on that very uppermost shelf that you never think you can reach. The chance to experience these again seemed to no longer be an option. Confidence, focus, desire, ambition, and ability all hazed over out of the lack of understanding of exactly where I am and where I go next.
The rehab was in my sights because , while I did not think I would get every answer every written, I did hope that it would point me in the right direction. The rehab is starting to do that.
Take the treadmill. When I started, I did 3 minutes at 1 mile per hour, with my oxygen level at 4 BPS. My blood oxygen level would dip low to 87-88. Three and a half weeks later. I am at 15 minutes at 1.6 miles an hour, oxygen level at 6 BPS. My blood oxygen is 91-92 % . One big difference: my therapist has turned the monitors away from my sight. I therefore have to depend on how I feel instead of how the monitors tell me I feel. That knowledge will help me immensely.
Also helping me is that the gym has Good Morning America on for the 8 AM hour, so I get all the annoying faux-celebrity news and make up tips that even a clown would laugh at, instead of the newsworthy 7 AM sgement. So maybe I am trying to walk away from the TV.
Next up the what I’ve called the “fantasy ice cream making machine”, which I’ve learned is a UBE (Upper Body Ergometer ). This is very similar to when I was a wee lad and would turn my tricycle upside down and spin the big wheel with my hands. There is much more resistance now, except for when I would turn my brothers tricycle upside down. Then all hell would break loose.
I’ve increased from 5 to 9 minutes with increased resistance as well. In this room, there are only the walls and some inspirational posters that are definitely less annoying than HANG IN THERE KITTY posters. There are no monitors, all my breathing and body effort are measured on a self-scoring numbered scale. This causes the least feeling of tiredness and shortness of breath and the most instances of daydreaming since I’ve memorized those posters and every inch of the wall.
The exercise bike is back in the main room and therefore back in view of Good Morning America. Josh Elliot is riding a camel, some woman has 15,000 pairs of shoes and a reporter tells me that dollar stores are cheap. News you can use.
I’ve gone from 5 minutes to 9 minutes on the bike and increased wattage resistance. There is much more visual stimuli in main room but I still manage to stay away from looking at monitors.
The hand weights have gone from 3-4lbs per arm and will be increased to 5 lbs Friday. We have gone from 5 to 8 minutes and I’ve gotten better at not looking like a cartoon drawing while following the cartoon instructions.
Wednesday, we attacked a flight of stairs. Yes, that is a fear, a barrier, and a goal. While I went up one flight and back down again, I was able to do four steps at a time with normal strides before feeling a bit winded. Since this was the first time, my old friend apprehension came back to visit, the fear of what I could not do before I tried to do it.
I did learn that the pursed lips breathing is much more effective than the habitual panting that I have done when out of breath. Pursed lips bring the blood oxygen level up more quickly. Again, nothing earthquaking, or shaking, but a hoop that needed to be stepped through.
One of the great fears and sadness for me has been the thought that I am not only stagnant on what I can do physically, but that I am also stagnant on what I can earn and monetarily help with. I have no desire to be a burden but I do have a desire to contribute on my own when needed. Having the disability check means that there is income every month. Having the ability to cover the expenses can be tough.
I will be meeting with a local foundation tomorrow to see about some help with the medical expenses. I can use the help and support and hope that this is also the step that allows me to find a way to contribute and organize my finances more effectively.
I have a few really great angels in my life right now and right now I can use one more.
My ultimate goal is to be an angel in return when needed. Clarence, I can use some wings.
More to come…
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