It has been a week since I walked in my garden. The following are a few of the photos I took then, nothing new but nice that the garden is doing well through the summer:
I had hip replacement surgery the day after I took these photos. I was in the hospital for a few days, then finally came home, where I am bound to hobble around the house on a walker.
Definitely not my style.
You may think this came about because of shoveling, hauling, digging with a pick ax, and other gardening chores. I have always been a hands on, down in the dirt gardener. Bored by gyms, I think outdoor activities are the best form of exercise.
Or maybe my situation was the result of my day job. I am a nurse, and I routinely spend 12 hour shifts on my feet, constantly moving around with few breaks.
Maybe it was a little of both, but probably it was genetics. Everyone in my family has arthritis. My brother had hip replacement surgery last year, and he has a sedentary job. (Although he is a gardener...) It recently became clear that it was time to do something about my condition.
I confess I have been down in the dumps. Yesterday I sat with my feet propped up on the couch. Lou had put layers of blankets under the cushion so that once down, I could get up again. Sitting atop the pile, I was reminded of the old children's tale, The Princess and the Pea. Behind me, sunlight streamed past the window panes. A spider web was strung between the glass and the window screen.
This morning I felt a bit better, and Lou suggested I sit on the patio. The temperature was pleasant, and I perked up as I listened to birds and watched a lizard scurry across the concrete. I looked at my walker and decided it was good for most terrains. I stood up, and my walker and I ambled toward the front garden. I made a discovery: Walking is easier on soft mulch than hard floors. I intended to just go a short distance, but soon I was all the way down in the middle of the front garden, inspecting plants and even pulling a few weeds.
Thanks to modern medicine and technology, I should be back to normal within a couple of months. Meanwhile, I perch upon my throne of blankets and cushions. I point to this and I point to that, and Lou does it. My days as a princess will not last long. A physical therapist will be seeing me several times a week, but I think my garden will be the most important factor in getting me off my tush and moving toward recovery.