There they are, two lovely ostomates sitting happily in a park, absorbing in all the sunlight, throwing sticks to their dog. Suddenly runs in a homeless guy, grabs his expensive leather jacket, and off he runs again. Ostomates start running, heavily breathing giving up in about 150 meters with severe muscle cramps.
Sounds like a scene from a cheap version of Mission Impossible. This actually happened to me and my boyfriend. Not that I have ever been a good athlete, even in my healthy days. But I could at least last a bit. After this experience I know I can’t anymore. And that’s scary. Every single surgery sucks out a bit of my life energy and I wonder… How will this go on in the future? I feel I am getting more tired and slow. Truth be told I am rather frustrated by the fact, that even though 31 years old, I feel like an old lady.
What if someone decides to rob me again? I can’t outrun anyone, I don’t have the strength to defend myself, I can only scream. Hopefully they wouldn’t go for my belly, I could not stand the pain. I guess I would just have to voluntarily surrender and hope for a peaceful resolution. Feeling so hopeless makes me super angry.
I am no Wonder Woman. But I am alive! And the homeless got himself a hell of a jacket.
Life is good!