Doctor's Clearance
I had my second assessment last Monday and I was cleared to go back to work on March 1st. Both happy and sad, very mixed emotions. Yes, I'm happy for my progress and that I'll be able to work again. However sad because I'll miss how it was and the people that provided me company during my progress.
I'm also very scared. Scared to go back to work - back to the stress, the constant reminder I'm a subordinate, and the politics of it all. That alone can cause anyone their health. Moreso, I'm scared that because of work, all this that I've worked for in getting better might come back. I fear that transit alone is stressful to my body. I'm not asking for a car, hell no. It's not needed and it's just not in the picture right now (although, the Jeep Renegade really did dig a deep hole in me since the auto show).
Anyways, I've been going through my exercises and routine this week, business as usual. When I was swimming, I told my gym boyfriend I was going back to work. I saw the sadness that filled his eyes but also the sincere joy for me that I was getting better. He said, "That's good! I'm sure you're going to miss this!" Then he fell silent for a few minutes. He then said, "Well, I guess I'll have to swim alone again." That broke my heart. He neighbour, babe, pumpkin, or dahlin'.
was 79 years old and the 1 hour of swimming with him there, just silent, obviously meant a lot to both of us. We supported each other trying to get better with just the sound of the water and the comfort in the fact that we were just doing our own things but with silent support nearby. I'm going to miss him. This past week, we shared stories about his retirement, his wife, his health, and all that. I could tell he was going to miss me too. He even joked around, "I may need to put an ad out asking for a swimming companion to talk to." In the end, I introduced myself to him and he to me as well. He no longer calls me
When he left the pool, he said, "I wish you luck and health, Luzee! I'll see you around!"
When I was first diagnosed and that I was asked not to work, several people offered me they'll exercise with me, join me in my diet, come with me to do chores, and this, and that. So many promises. I thought to myself, "only one thing came true which was me having lunch with my friend to catch up". Other than that, no one really came to me, visited me, joined me in getting better. In the end, you can only depend and rely on yourself. Whatever anyone promises, consider it a dream until it's actually acted on. Then you'll know who's really there for you, looking out for you. I'll miss the superintendent that smells like flowers even though he looks like the doctor in Thor, the Indian couple that keeps trying all the machines, the crazy workout lady who super pushes herself once or twice a week, the silent man with a worn grey baseball cap, the Chinese lady that comes every Thursday cause that's her day off, and the male cleaner who really whistles while he works. The naked Sri Lankan lady? Nah, I won't miss so much.
I thank God for meeting Ivo and Anita. They've encouraged me along the way and provided some sort of support even though no words were needed. They were my company for the past 12 weeks and I pray they heal as well and find happiness. I'm going to miss them.
To my true support through this, Thank You. You've been the angels God sent when I prayed.
I'm also very scared. Scared to go back to work - back to the stress, the constant reminder I'm a subordinate, and the politics of it all. That alone can cause anyone their health. Moreso, I'm scared that because of work, all this that I've worked for in getting better might come back. I fear that transit alone is stressful to my body. I'm not asking for a car, hell no. It's not needed and it's just not in the picture right now (although, the Jeep Renegade really did dig a deep hole in me since the auto show).
Anyways, I've been going through my exercises and routine this week, business as usual. When I was swimming, I told my gym boyfriend I was going back to work. I saw the sadness that filled his eyes but also the sincere joy for me that I was getting better. He said, "That's good! I'm sure you're going to miss this!" Then he fell silent for a few minutes. He then said, "Well, I guess I'll have to swim alone again." That broke my heart. He neighbour, babe, pumpkin, or dahlin'. was 79 years old and the 1 hour of swimming with him there, just silent, obviously meant a lot to both of us. We supported each other trying to get better with just the sound of the water and the comfort in the fact that we were just doing our own things but with silent support nearby. I'm going to miss him. This past week, we shared stories about his retirement, his wife, his health, and all that. I could tell he was going to miss me too. He even joked around, "I may need to put an ad out asking for a swimming companion to talk to." In the end, I introduced myself to him and he to me as well. He no longer calls me
When he left the pool, he said, "I wish you luck and health, Luzee! I'll see you around!"
When I was first diagnosed and that I was asked not to work, several people offered me they'll exercise with me, join me in my diet, come with me to do chores, and this, and that. So many promises. I thought to myself, "only one thing came true which was me having lunch with my friend to catch up". Other than that, no one really came to me, visited me, joined me in getting better. In the end, you can only depend and rely on yourself. Whatever anyone promises, consider it a dream until it's actually acted on. Then you'll know who's really there for you, looking out for you. I'll miss the superintendent that smells like flowers even though he looks like the doctor in Thor, the Indian couple that keeps trying all the machines, the crazy workout lady who super pushes herself once or twice a week, the silent man with a worn grey baseball cap, the Chinese lady that comes every Thursday cause that's her day off, and the male cleaner who really whistles while he works. The naked Sri Lankan lady? Nah, I won't miss so much.
I thank God for meeting Ivo and Anita. They've encouraged me along the way and provided some sort of support even though no words were needed. They were my company for the past 12 weeks and I pray they heal as well and find happiness. I'm going to miss them.
To my true support through this, Thank You. You've been the angels God sent when I prayed.
Comments
Post a Comment