It has now been a month since my surgery. It's astounding to me how completely that event has taken over my life. Every day is punctuated by medications, exercises, struggles, accomplishments and, hovering over it all, a general malaise, a fearful daydream that this is not going to change, that this is my new life.
I know better, but it's hard to shake.
Abraham Maslow (1908-1970) was the founder of humanistic psychology; he created the well-known Hierarchy of Needs (above). Simply put, he argued that humans must take care of their most basic needs, food and water, before they can grow to experience any other, higher level needs, i.e. feelings of friendship or achievement or creative expression.
I am proof of his argument.
For a month I have been able to do little other than meet my most basic needs. Friends have asked what I'm reading – nothing. They've wondered if I've seen a lot of movies. No. Have I written anything new? Again, no. I've managed exactly three blog posts in these thirty days – hardly a great outpouring of wit and insight.
I've mostly met my physiological needs, the first step in Maslow's pyramid: breathing, food, water, excretion. Not always doing so well with the last of those, or with sleep or sex. Climbing to step two has had equally mixed results: my safety needs are being met, though “health” obviously merits a footnote. Moving up to level three, love and belonging, I certainly feel loved by Ransom but my being a contributing part of the family has obviously taken a hit, as has sexual intimacy.
The top two levels, esteem and self-actualization are currently only goals. I often feel lousy and useless. My creative juices are flowing slower than January sap and spontaneity has been shoved to the back seat in a world where I have to carefully plan each footfall or brace myself against each gust of wind or canine advance.
This is not a pity party. I am not looking for encouragement from without; I am digging deep to find it within. Every day that I navigate the house and the stairs without falling is a day I feel safer. Likewise, every day that I sleep two hours in a row is a better day than when I woke every hour.
I will scale this pyramid. I will toss away this cane and realize the potential within. Like many before me I am learning the value of all the things I take for granted.
Never again will I take a pain-free day for granted.
All you say is true. Been there. After my heart attack, I remember distinctly while on a walk, with Erica's support telling her the overwhelming feeling I was having was one of being 'diminished'. It felt like I would never be able again.
ReplyDeleteThe hard work and diligence paid off, of course but that feeling of dependence, of powerlessness, was not only distinct but so powerful as to destroy my ability to foresee any favorable outcome.
You have a good handle on this, more so than I did. Stiff upper lip and all that. You will persevere and conquer! I see it in my tea leaves. :)