We always knew we’d do it.
More than once we’d wished we’d done it BEFORE the big move, BEFORE
leaping off the grid into Home the Land Built.
But we didn't. And last Wednesday
that day came. Or perhaps it was
Friday. On Wednesday, Olmsted Medical Center replaced
Linda’s arthritic bone-on-bone hips with bionic implants. Both of them.
Indeed a red letter day, frighteningly ripped with pain yet pregnant
with the possibility of new life: to once again stride confidently over prairie
gopher mounds, to feel the vibration of the chain saw as she slices through next
year’s heat source. Friday brought
another challenger, and we’re still trying to determine the color of that day.
On Friday, bionic Linda returned---gripping her
ribbon-draped walker---to Home the Land Built.
What would it mean to nurse Linda back to health, while at the same time
keeping our off-grid electric, solar hot water, wood heated, composting toilet,
rainwater harvest systems alive and healthy?
Though I’d never nursed anyone, I believed I could learn. Silly me!!!
Perhaps it was good not to know what I didn't know: managing medications, enabling Physical
Therapy, changing dressing, keeping her comfortable, plus all the newly
challenged activities of daily living:
toilet, shower, sleep. And if this weren't enough I needed to
maintain the systems: monitor the
batteries, feed the masonry heater, haul buckets of pooh. And when I dashed out to fetch wood, my
worries lingered inside, “Is she alright?”
So here it was, the great stress test
of our off-grid home. How would we hold
up under the pressure? Could we heal AND
keep the home healthy?
By end of day Saturday, I had my doubts. I’d progressed from unconscious incompetence
to conscious incompetence. Aware now of
what I didn't know about nursing, I longed for my old denial. And while I knew how to keep the home systems
healthy, I struggled to find the time. Four
full buckets waited in the garage to be emptied. The morning routine with Linda delayed the
fire, letting a chill creep through the windows and into the home. But now,
only days later, all that seems weeks ago.
We've hit our stride, managing Linda’s pain between 2 and 4
(10 is worst pain ever). Like new mothers, we sleep when we can. The home is toasty while two full buckets
wait patiently in the garage. What made the difference?
Friends. Family. Neighbors.
You. In the end, stuff is stuff,
work is work. What feeds me, what
sustains me, is love. We can feel
it! Love---expressed in thought, prayer
and deed---pulsing over the long miles to the Land, rooting into the prairie
and rising like a healing fire into Home the Land Built. And at night, when sleep is hard to find,
Orion leans over his dog and peaks through the great bank of window. We asked Locus Architect Paul for a home the
enables our connection to the Land while welcoming family and friends. Well Paul, you did it. Not only in good times, but in these trying times,
this off-grid stress test.
The test is far, far from over. We’re still one hour at a time. Yet rarely do I fear failure. How
could we when surrounded by so much love?
A chorus---a coyote roused chorus please--- for community reliance!
I’m a lucky man.
Rah-dur!
Wahoo for Linda's success in daily milestones and achieving healing and full recovery.
ReplyDeleteWahoo for Nurse Mike in providing all his love and support AND maintaining communication updates with the Linda Lovers.
Prayers for rest, recovery, peace and laughter!
:) Heather
wow!! nice..Get well soon
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