I took a look at how many posts we wrote a month in the beginning, and how many now… It’s getting less. Writing a post is becoming more and more time consuming, difficult and tedious. Meanwhile writing a post takes forever. I make many more mistakes when writing, which I then have to laboriously correct afterwards. I am much slower on the keyboard. Translating into English takes much slower. I have trouble concentrating, but at least I am not dull in the head. I am much slower in general. In all my movements. In my head I write articles, letters and messages faster. Often I lie in bed, in the morning or in the evening, and write in my head. Sitting down and doing it, however, is effortful. Slowly, I owe a bunch of people the answer. They probably think something, I have a hard time explaining why sitting down and typing on the keyboard is hard. Not too long ago, I couldn’t have imagined it myself. What is hard about sitting and typing?
I’ve already thought about, what if we can’t manage it all anymore? The blog, the Facebook group, the online meetings and the WhatzApp group. We would have to hand it over to someone more fitter before it’s too late.
Slowly everything becomes like in slow motion and it’s all hard. It’s as if my body is covered with blocks weighing tons everywhere. I compare how I was when we started writing this blog, it’s a huge downgrade. There I was walking in the woods every day with Nordic walking poles for an hour. Drove a car. And mowed lawns. While tedious back then. But making my bed is so tedious now. At that time I took the train from Munich to Konstanz to rehab and flew to Canada. I was crawling on all fours into the train, at that time and the flight to Canada was a huge challenge. That was two-three years ago. Now I think twice about going from the living room to the kitchen.
Walking and balance is enormously difficult. I benefit from the small apartment here. Here it is almost impossible to fall. But I go out less and less.
All in all, in a short time everything has become quite difficult. I am supposedly not even an aggressive course. I can hardly imagine that, I feel that my course is already rapid.
I can’t imagine how it will be in a few months, in a few years.
But I know what it means to stay active. Sometimes I don’t feel like doing anything for days, and I just lie around and stare stupidly. This quickly takes its revenge and I can hardly get up from the couch.
I sometimes torture myself – lucky that no one sees me – by vacuuming, doing laundry, or just putting trash out the door. And this writing keeps me fit in the head.
Life at a snail’s pace.