I have previously mentioned that I have a reclusive nature, but since the stroke I am beginning to realize my perception of my reclusievness was more personal choice than I was admitting to myself.
Now, post-stroke, with my newly acquired limitations of dexterity, I am faced with more a forced state of semi-isolation.
It's an eyeball opener.
I realize now that pre-stroke I still had the choice at any time to venture forth into society, but now that is not the case. Now I am dependent on a driver to leave home property, and even though I most move freely at home without assistance of cane most of the time hobbling, limping and gimping about, that I lack the nerve or confidence doing so in public.
Thus I rarely go to any location that does not have the little handicapped scooter/cart thingamajiggy. I do really enjoy these thrice monthly excursions with my sister, but otherwise I rarely anymore leave my room at all other than a few times a week venturing out front to the driveway, which is expansive, and sitting on the veranda just watching nature.
In my room I sit most of the day in front of the window getting plenty of sunshine and fresh air, but little physical exercise..
I have ordered all these physical rehabilitation aides that I never use but I do try to use my hand as much as I can.
Problem is I don't know if I'm coming or going anymore because my schedule has been so compromised. My sleeps routine has turned into a veritable *beep* show and it is, I have to admit, dragging my spirits down low. The recent high profile suicides lay heavy on my mind, because I can so relate to the conditions precipitating these sad endings of life.
The only way I can get a restful sleep is to finally in the wee hours of darkness submit to the swallowing of a portion of a Trazadone, maybe half a Vicodin and a muscle re;azer then talking to the magic dragon.
This typically knocks me out until my regular schedule begins with my sister bringing me my every morning two eggs/ smokey link sausage and toast w/jelly and a glass of ice milk.
This rant, if you have not yet figured it out, submitted at 3;30am-ish, is a prelude to my consumption of above and respite from insomnia.
Oi Vey, as they say in the motion picture machines