2014 Restart

I lost my writer's cred somewhere in 2013, along with my energy, my drive, my willingness to leave the house, my ability to sleep, and my zest for life.

That sounds much worse than it actually was.  I stayed awake all night playing Sims 3 on the computer and napped all afternoon, nearly every afternoon.  I didn't read any books but devoured magazines at a frantic pace.  I watched weird TV, thankful for my DVR so I could fast forward through commercials.  I cooked meals every day and I kind of puttered around the house.  I didn't read other people's journals, I quit exercising, I didn't meet friends for lunch or dinner.  I only shopped at the grocery story or on-line for others.  I quit wearing underwear and found that very liberating.  I had my head nearly shaved of my hair and that was the most liberating feeling of all. 

Hubby's heart gained strength and he got well -- as well as a severely arthritic 78 year old can get.  The pacemaker kicked in and did the job we were told in January it would do and at the end of the year we were told that Hubby's heart had a strong, steady beat, his blood pressure was near normal, and the blood flow in and out of his heart was healthy.  Moreover, Hubby had recovered much of the energy he had lost during the three years of erratic heartbeats and hospitalizations for congestive heart failure.  

I suddenly didn't have to be the "strong" one, anymore.  I still had to do the grocery shopping, the housework, and most of the cooking, but Hubby was no longer stuck at home, laying in bed, totally depleted.  So I guess I took over for him for a while -- I went to bed and wallowed there. 

Christmas came and we spent it, as usual, in Houston with loving family that cared only that we had come to visit.  We didn't have to be witty or athletic or even helpful -- we just felt loved. That began the start of my resurgence.  I can only thank Wendy and Cynthia for being such supportive family.  

We came home with a sickly pup -- old Gus who is nearly 11 -- and had to invest a small fortune in him (yet again) because he had bladder stones (11 -- just like his age).  He survived but was pretty unhappy for a couple of days.  Now he's up and frisky like we haven't seen in a couple of years.  Just like his pop, he's a survivor.

So it's time that I crawled out of my "hole" and tried my hand at a bit of creativity.  I've been reading some decent literature, not just cozy mysteries or pulp magazines. My brain seems to be engaged once more.  My goal is to begin water aerobic again next week (Hubby and I gave up our lovely membership at the Research Rehab center in favor or a free membership with the Y for Silver Sneakers - when your sweet dog costs over $2000 in two weeks, you learn quickly to cut back on the frivolous stuff in your life). Hopefully a regular exercise routine will help both Hubby and me, physically and mentally. 

If all goes well, I'll be posting here again on a semi-weekly basis.  So Debby, my dear friend, you will no longer have to view a page about the dearly departed and the heartbreak of losing close friends.  Hopefully I will have much, much cheerier things to report.