Messing about boats
Once upon a time I was quite the kayaker – and by kayak, I mean whitewater. This picture is me, several years ago, at the peak of my kayaking career. Wheeee!
About a year after this picture was taken, I got really sick. I stayed sick. And while I was sick, I didn’t do much kayaking at all. Then in 2006, I had surgery, and was told I could never kayak again – which turned out to be BS.
Still, it certainly hasn’t been easy getting back into the sport. My former boating buddies have not been very understanding of my limitations. I don’t have the stamina I used to, and building it back up has taken a long while. In the meantime, I’ve discovered that I can’t use some of my old equipment – it rubs on my appliance – so I had to replace those items. Then my car got totaled. Since my new car doesn’t have a roof rack, I had to figure out a way to get my boat on top of my car.
Today I had a slack afternoon, and decided this was my day. I changed into my swimsuit and rashguard, gathered my gear, and went outside to put my boat on the car. Where I discovered the foam rack I have is totally worthless. So instead of going boating, I went to the sporting goods store to buy a sturdy rack that mounts on my car’s rain gutters. At long last, my boat is on my car – but it will have to stay there until I have another opportunity to go out for the afternoon (which I hope will be tomorrow).
As I was driving around, trying to find a rack, I realized: I’m three years away from that surgery, and six years away from the life I lived before it. In all this time, my life still isn’t what it was before that flare took so much away. Some of what I have lost since then is normal aging, but a lot of that is directly due to the illness and surgery. And the thing is, I might never get my life back. I might get on the river tomorrow, and realize that I just don’t like boating anymore. I might pop a hernia, in which case I will probably never boat again. And even if those things are remote possibilities, I still have enough residual anxiety and fear that they are problems for me. And that’s just one my hobby – not to mention the stuff that’s really important and still really difficult.
All of which is to say: even though I am technically in “remission”, it’s continually amazing to me how much my illness continues to affect my life. Everyone says I look so much better, but I still don’t feel whole. There is still something missing. And finding that something – putting my life back together – sometimes feels like it might take forever.
