The terror

I have been avoiding addressing this issue for a long time. I have always been an active, capable, fully functional female. I was never a woman lib radical, I was a Val's lib radical. I figure the rest of them will find equality on their own terms but mine were a little more emphatic - I would do it, no gender bias acceptable.

I ride a motorcycle that I can repaint, do basic repairs and maintenence on, I hunt, clean my own kills and butcher them, I fish, bait my own hook and clean and cook my catch. I mow, rake, roto till, hoe, water and weed my gardens. I bake, cook, clean (as little as possible) and do laundry. I have dogs, cats, have had cows, horses and chickens. I can change out the starter on my car, change and gap the plugs and i.d. most funny noises for the repair men. I have walked miles more than most people ever will. I can face down a drunk or a biker intent on a fight, step between fighting sisters, or run off a farm dog.

Or, I could.

Now, I'm afraid to even walk to the store and back alone, much less do any of these things alone.

I might drop over dead.

I realized that since my heart attack last June I haven't done anything active by myself. If the mate or someone isn't doing it with me, I'll be here, on the computer, where it's safe.

I HATE this. My replacement hip wasn't even fully healed when I rode my Magna to Madison for a long weekend. I stayed with friends in Chicago one night, got to the event, rode back, stayed with the friends again and rode home. I got angry everytime someone said "You rode by YOURSELF?!" Of course I did! Why shouldn't I? I rode alone all over. I liked it because I could stop where I wanted, go when I was ready and rest when I felt like it without feeling like I was holding anyone up.

Now, I don't know if I can do it again. I'm afraid to weed the garden, dig the flowers, build a new flower bed, or even walk around the block alone. I want someone who can call 911 if I keel over.

Exercise? Intentionally make my heart work harder? Nope. But admit I have a problem keeping up with the mate? Nope. I hauled bushes till HE went and got the mower for towing them. Talk about conflicted and stupidity. I was melting in the heat and panting with effort. I wouldn't tell HIM that.

I am determined to get my body back. That means making the mate or someone move with me as I dig, burn, build and transplant the yard this year. All without admitting how scared I am of the nasty chest pain and breathing problems that come before you pass out during a heart attack.

It sucks. Does anyone else have this problem?