“Little islands are all large prisons; one cannot look at the sea without wishing for the wings of a swallow.” — Sir Richard Francis Burton
A small island?
Well, the ‘bed’ I’ve been sleeping on in my living room during my first three weeks of recovery is scarcely a twin—it’s a chaise lounge on risers, dimensions 30 inches wide and 70 inches long, shared most nights with two frisky, two-year-old kits ‘of unusual size.’ However, it’s been an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Why is that? When I was told that the plan post-op (left knee replacement, late January 2025) was six weeks of home physical therapy three times weekly, I reframed it as an opportunity.
“When life gives you lemons, sell them and buy a pineapple.” — Davin Turney
I don’t know about you, but after the COVID crisis waned, I had wondered what I might have chosen to accomplish if I had known going into the isolation just how long it would last. At least, I’d have done some ab work or yoga for increased flexibility (and who couldn’t benefit from some ab work?). Here I am, gifted with six weeks within my home, not allowed to descend my entry stairs until greenlighted by Carolyn, my amazeballs physical therapist.
“Small islands of coherence in a sea of chaos have the capacity to shift the whole system to a higher order.” — Ilya Prigogine, Nobel Prize-winning chemist
So, I made a list. Those who know me snort at this—my method of coping with anything is list making, strategizing and planning—and I am quite satisfied when I achieve between 50-75 percent of my goals. I make lists on the backs of junk mail envelopes, 3 x 5 cards, my bullet journal. For this project, I broke out the “Big Paper.” What is this, you may ask? It’s a pad of 2 x 3-foot Post-It note paper that I use when facing a long project with many facets over time. Yes, the paper is similar in width to my cot.
What are the highlighted plans for my six weeks on a small island? By the way, my small island includes the aforementioned cot, a bathroom with walk-in shower, shower chair and raised toilet seat, kitchen, living room with large-screen TV, and my desk and computer. Laundry and my expansive queen bed are just out of my reach upstairs. Hardly an average prison cell.
“Life is a mind game. Decide what game you’re going to play with your mind.” —Anonymous
For mental stimulation, I am reading my local book club assignments (last week, the club met at my home, and the ladies brought the healthy party food), continuing my daily dose of Duolingo (over one year of Italian lessons), watching selected documentaries (“Best of” lists for both Netflix and Amazon) and reading nonfiction for 30 minutes daily.
“You don’t get anything clean without getting something else dirty.” — Cecil Baxter
I started a TDAD project; standing for “Two Drawers A Day” in which I select drawers that matter to me in no other order for clean out/straightening. These include drawers in my nightstand, desk, kitchen, TV stand, pantry, storage areas … the only limit is that they are within reach of seated me. Go, me! I’m feeling so decluttered. I also cleared up some accounting issues requiring patience and my über-pleasant telephone voice for over a week, started organizing my taxes (as it would truly bite to still have those to do in March having been sequestered throughout February), and organizing my recipes (I have three bins of printed recipes that needed sorting and filing. I’m partway through; it’s not a fun task, but necessary).
“Don’t forget to drink water and get some sun. You’re basically a houseplant with more complicated emotions.” — Anonymous
I did well with twice-daily moisturizer (face soft as a baby’s bottom, with both moisturizer and being sequestered from the harsh weather of February), my home PT (twice a day), and making good food choices. I’ve enjoyed using my kitchen’s abundance of dried legumes. I also had the welcome support of friends, as they entertained me when invited for book club, Mexican Train dominoes and frozen margaritas, and twice-weekly lunches (I ordered, and they picked up). Not compliant with planned chair yoga, Pilates core work, and daily meditation. Ah, well.
“We talked of mice, the cat and I, and of the importance of napping.” ― Catherine Gilbert Murdock
In addition to frequent visitors, I leaned on my two-year-old sibling kits, Finley and Evie. When not napping, we’ve done well with daily play with wands and laser lights, and with treat/ clicker training. We are all three failing at kit dental hygiene.
“The monotony and solitude of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind.” — Albert Einstein
I’m enjoying plant care for my numerous houseplants (and the IKEA rolling cart makes an excellent functional watering and pruning walker), but haven’t had a hankering to do other creative outlets on my suggested list. Like crocheting scrub pads, doing Zentangle, or painting rocks. Meh—I guess I was thinking like a creaky lady when I made that Big Paper list. As a callback to the COVID days, I’ve embraced online shopping spending time and cash at ThredUp, a well-designed online clearing house for stylish thrifted clothing.
So, what’s next?
“Remember that life is an ADVENTURE, and cheer ‘Whee…’ all the way down the slippery razor-blade of life.”— Jonathan Lockwood Huie
I’m halfway through my six-week confinement and am still of sound mind and heart. I will plan to up my game with that missing core and flexibility work, a focus on feline oral hygiene, and get the tax prep completed by the last week of my incarceration. Additionally, I’ve just rented the adult son of a friend (in between his archeology master’s degree and his first dig, with time to spare) to work on household projects I cannot yet accomplish.
“Every island to a child is a treasure island.”— P. D. James
And when I’m done? A brand-new knee, and an experience I wouldn’t have traded for anything. I have indeed treasured this experience in time.
