Before Christmas, my family and I embarked on a really quick ski trip. Skiing has always been one of my favorite outdoor winter activities. I’ve never considered myself an athlete (my family would whole-heartedly agree), but I can ski. Now, to be totally honest when I say ski, my definition is to meander down the mountain at a comfortable rate that includes occasionally passing other skiiers. I’ve never ski jumped, on purpose anyway, or raced anyone and won, but I’m a decent skiier and don’t embarass my kids…with my skiing anyway.
When I was diagnosed with RA in 2007 one of my first questions was, “Will I still be able to ski”? The answer from my rheumatologist was “Yes, of course…as soon as we get it under control”. Until we got it under control, I thought that her response was laughable. There would be no way that I could unless I improved significantly.
Well, not only did I improve significantly, I did ski this past December. Yes, I did. As I got off the lift and made my way down the mountain for the first run, a tear of thankfulness rolled down my cheek….So thankful that RA has not taken my love for skiing away! That day was magical. Beautiful fresh powder and huge snowflakes fell from the sky and created a beautiful day for skiing with my family, and reflecting on where I’ve been and where I’m going.
I just saw the following quote from Lance Armstrong: “I take nothing for granted. I have only good days and great days”. I am going to try to remember this for 2010….good or great, I will not take either for granted.
Me in the center...I laughed when I saw this picture because it looks like I could be Muslim...I'm not.
I attended a retreat for women at my church this weekend. It was a great opportunity to get away from my normal routine and meet other women in the community. The main focus of the weekend was building friendships with other women. The food, fellowship, music, and worship was outstanding and I enjoyed it so much. However, for those of us with RA I ask…do we really have to stand up to sing praise? Now, I already know the answer to this question, but I still have to ask. You know how it is…you get that feeling that your joint/s are starting to swell…you start shifting…you try standing on one leg. After standing on one leg for a while and trying to balance and bumping into the person next to you, your hip begins to hurt, so you try to put some weight back on your foot and feel that familiar sting and wish you had your gel pack. It’s hard to concentrate on worship when you are constantly trying to shift your weight to a position that doesn’t hurt.
Because I try to be an optimist, I have found a bright spot in modern worship services…at least we don’t have to worry about holding the hymnal now that the words are on the big screens! I wonder if they were thinking about those of us with RA when this concept was started? Hmmmm….nope, probably not. But, nonetheless it’s helpful, so yeah for words on the screen! (It’s also great for those of us that just had to start wearing glasses…but that’s another story for another day.)
I looked around and noticed that there were a few people sitting down but, if I sat down what would people think? (I look forward to the day when I’ll not care what people think) But until that day, I’ll just shift and wiggle and balance to get through it until the much anticipated words are spoken…”you may be seated”. Can I hear an amen? Amen.
I received the following email this morning and decided to share. It applies to all of us. The author is unknown.
A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud man, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with his hair fashionably combed and shaved perfectly, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.
His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready.
As he maneuvered his walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of his tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on his window.
“I love it,” he stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.
“Mr. Jones, you haven’t seen the room; just wait.”I replied.
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” he replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged…it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it. ‘It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open, I’ll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I’ve stored away…Just for this time in my life.”
Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw from what you’ve put in.
So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories!
- Author Unknown
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