Right now i'm visiting my brother, him and my dad are getting ready to lay some gravel in the front yard. My brother has been complaining about his back because he messed it up snowboarding a couple of years ago. I've found myself wanting to go out and help, but i know the movement of bending over to sweep up the dirt and then up to place it in the wheelbarrow would cause my P.O.T.s to act up sending me face down in the dirt. And although the idea of a mud bath sounds fun right now i don't think it's for the best.
I would have never thought I'd miss manual labor as much as i do. I've always enjoyed mowing the law and still do it every now and then but it causes a bad reaction and i can surely expect an event that night.
I grew up in a fairly small town, pewney compared to the major cities, my best friends all had ranches and corrals. I'd go out and help with gathering up the hay, bringing in the horses, fix fences, everything you'd see in a good cowboy movie.
There's just something inspiring about hard work. I love it. I love that feeling of completing a task and that pride sweeping over you. It bugs me that the only thing i make with my hands now days is girly woosie needle point and birdhouses.
It's my goal to get back to doing as much as I can, I walk a little more each day, and push myself in the small things more and more to help my endurance grow. It'll get there. I've been teaching myself how to endure the pain in my heart. Every time it comes on i just take a deep breath and i guess, meditate, almost go into myself and tell my brain i can take it, it's not as bad as it seems and with my mind try to psyche myself out into thinking I'm fine.
At this point it only works like 30% of the time, but I'm expecting it to get better.
