I went back and re-read what you posted before. I guess I feel sort of nervous about responding in kind. You're asking questions I don't want to believe I will ever have to answer. Yet I take them, and you, seriously.
I don't like the idea of a colostomy bag, but shit doesn't really bother me, at least not my own. It's not the greatest thing in the world, but not the worst, either. Not that many people need them, so the odds are that you won't.
As for a cane, or a walker, why not? Is it pride? Pride keeps me from admitting the truth to myself, sometimes, and then sometimes very early in the morning, too early to get up, say 4:00 a.m., I face things clearly, without pride, and sometimes I am very regretful.
But I have, fresh in my mind, a recollection of not being able to stand up to walk to the bathroom without my husband's assistance. Of not being able to hook my own bra, or zip my own dress. Death never attracted me. If I had never gotten better, if I had only gotten worse, at some point, maybe it would have crossed my mind, but it didn't. At first, I was terribly embarrassed, but so what? I was semi-helpless, and grateful for the help. The transition was hard, from self-sufficient to helpless, and I was angry about it, but I accepted it, eventually.
But I don't live by myself. Do you? Are you afraid of not being self-sufficient?
I think this is about as deep as I can go. |
