It's about Butterflies

I sort of knew about butterflies from the time it was very, very little. It wasn't until I was married that I really understood butterflies. You see, Kathy is an amateur lepidopterist. One thing that she didn't have to teach me was that you can't help a butterfly out of its cocoon. But that's something that small children and unformed adults don't understand. Such was the case near the finish of stage 20 of the Giro d'Italia.

Francesco Bongiorno was just behind Michael Rogers, who at the moment was in first place. It appeared that Francesco Bongiorno was about to challenge Michael Rogers. However a well-meaning fan decided that Bongiorno deserved a friendly push. That friendly push disrupted Bongiorno's rhythm and balance causing him to unclip, put his foot down, and lose time to Michael Rogers. What could've been a first-place finish became a third place finish.

I can identify with Francesco Bongiorno. There are things that I can and cannot do. But I need to learn to do the things that I can't. Doing them for me does not help me. So it may seem a bit cold or hardhearted when someone refuses to do things for me, it is actually a more loving gesture. Just the opposite. Unless I learn to do a particular thing by myself, I remain disabled in that regard.

Although Katherine is a very loving person, at first she wanted to do everything for me and still wanted me to progress physically. Unfortunately, both could not happen. Now she lovingly lets me struggle on by my myself. So, like the butterfly that takes hours to expand its wings, I will take months to metaphorically expand mine.

IT'S A CIRCUS

Naval Admiral William H. McRaven returned to his alma mater, University of Texas at Austin, last week and spoke to the graduates with lessons he learned from his basic SEAL training and challenging them to change the world.

Here’s a portion of his commencement address as reported in Business Insider:

"Every day during training you were challenged with multiple physical events—long runs, long swims, obstacle courses, hours of calisthenics—something designed to test your mettle.

"Every event had standards—times you had to meet. If you failed to meet those standards your name was posted on a list and at the end of the day those on the list were invited to—a 'circus.'

"A circus was two hours of additional calisthenics—designed to wear you down, to break your spirit, to force you to quit.

"No one wanted a circus.

"A circus meant that for that day you didn’t measure up. A circus meant more fatigue—and more fatigue meant that the following day would be more difficult—and more circuses were likely.

"But at some time during SEAL training, everyone—everyone—made the circus list.

"But an interesting thing happened to those who were constantly on the list. Over time those students-—who did two hours of extra calisthenics—got stronger and stronger.

"The pain of the circuses built inner strength-built physical resiliency.

"Life is filled with circuses.

"You will fail. You will likely fail often. It will be painful. It will be discouraging. At times it will test you to your very core.

So lesson number five can be summed up as …if you want to change the world, don’t be afraid of the circuses.

I think I'll start calling rehab "the circus."

I'll never be a SEAL, but someday I want to be a cyclist again. I need the circus.

New Day

Well, today is therapy day or rehab day. You know how I feel about that. I've got until sometime this afternoon – I forgot the time – to think about it.

For those of you who are following this: you'll find that recovery from a stroke is like watching a snail race. Not much happens until you look away and then you will of see some progress. Not much, but some. It'll be like yesterday: I couldn't touch my thumb to my little finger but today I can. So my progress won't be evident in great leaps and bounds but by tiny, tiny differences. That's what can be very frustrating to me at times.
On Tuesday between therapy sessions I was watching the birds fly to and from the feeder just outside the windows of the clinic. I thought, "what happens to animals if they have a stroke? How blessed am I to be able to have trained therapists, nurses and physicians taking care of me?"
I generally talk to the blog early in the day, so this may or may not be the only time that I post something on the blog. However, I should say at this point, "I better go eat breakfast." That means that my new found stairclimbing or descending ability will be put into practice.

Talk at you later.

The Start of Something New

Today is Wednesday, 28 May. Yesterday was a rehab day. "Rehab day" describes a day that challenges my abilities. It also is a time that teaches me how to strengthen the muscles that I'm going to have to use. It is also a source of discomfort and fatigue. I realize that something has to be done, however, I wish there were a way around. I realize also that if I don't do the work, I'll never be on the bike again. I can't see my life without that freedom. I have noticed that go up and down the stairs by myself, but walking outside to something that I don't relish doing. I did go to church on Sunday but only stayed for one hour. My goal for next Sunday is to stay until noon. Also, yesterday Kathy went and bought a new big wheeled walker. That might help in getting around outside. Here's crossing my fingers. Well that's all I have to report today. I'll talk at you again tomorrow.