Breathe In, Breathe Out

Let’s Get Physical April 18, 2012

This past Monday in Boston was a record-breaking 90 degrees. It was also the 116th Boston Marathon. Over 22,000 insane people, one of which was my crazy and courageous sister, Polly, ran 26.2 miles in the extreme heat. Kudos to her and all of the runners- you’re inspirational.

Exercise and sports have always been a part of my family’s lifestyle—not to be competitive but to stay active. My older sisters were avid dancers for their entire youth (we have the videos to prove it!), while Abby and I ventured out onto the basketball court, thinking that someday we would be starters in the WNBA (needless to say we’ve moved on). Other sports that we all partook in were tennis, field hockey, and swimming. As a kid, I’m not sure that I really appreciated the push I got from my parents to be active, but as an adult I realize the importance of trying to maintain a healthy lifestyle of working out and being fit, even though I’ve been slacking on this lately.

When I started dating Eamonn it was clear to me from the get-go that he too, liked to be active, though his idea of this was a bit different from mine. Eamonn’s preferred physical activities were capoeira, biking, and skateboarding, though I’m not convinced the latter counts as exercise. I had never heard of capoeira until I met Eamonn, so for those of you who are unfamiliar, it is a dance/martial art originated from Afro-Brazilian culture. Simply put, there’s a lot of kicking and head dodging. However, I have to say that I am very impressed with capoeira ever since I saw Eamonn in a performance with his Chicago group—I could never do it myself despite his persistence that I come with him to a class! Biking is his other love. When we lived in Chicago he would always bike the 4 miles to my apartment, giving him the exercise and relaxation he needed, while giving me anxiety for his safety. I do love bike riding, just not so much in busy, city streets. Eamonn thought this was especially hilarious when he witnessed me, for the first time, on a bike in the streets of Chicago (in fairness I was riding his oversized bike making me uncomfortable and wobbly).

One thing was always clear, Eamonn was happy when he was doing capoeira or on his bike. His activities were not just about having to be active to stay healthy, but it was about being happy, doing something that he loved, taking a break from all of his other health-related chores to do something he wanted to be doing. So when Eamonn’s health was declining, one of the hardest things for me to accept was that these activities would be taken away from him. Now that Eamonn is on oxygen all the time, it’s hard for him to take capoeira classes and get on his bike outside. Not only is it harder for him to breathe, but the weight of the backpack that carries the oxygen concentrator makes the exercise that much more strenuous.

For about two years now Eamonn has been forced to get creative with his exercise tactics. He primarily uses his bike inside on a stationary trainer. We also have an Xbox Kinect so that he can play different games, for example boxing, track and field, and my personal favorite, African dance (it is quite a workout). Of course Eamonn makes the best of it, by watching his favorite X Files episodes while on the bike, and challenging me to boxing matches, which I usually win. He also started a very successful after-school capoeira program, keeping him involved with the sport as he helps his students; he has also established a connection with the Boston capoeira group through their music class. Despite Eamonn’s positive attitude, it’s not the same as when he got to be outside, or participate fully in a class. I certainly can tell the difference—exercising has now become another chore for him to fit into his busy schedule to stay healthy. It’s no longer making him happy. It’s no longer something he loves.

So, about a month ago, when spring finally arrived in Boston, I convinced Eamonn to come with me on a walk outside, leaving his indoor activities behind. It took some tough love, but he agreed and we started our way around the Chestnut Hill Reservoir. I could tell that his breathing was becoming increasingly harder, so I did what any good wife would do: I took from him the backpack carrying the oxygen concentrator to relieve him of the extra weight. I played the role of Jillian Michaels, trainer from The Biggest Loser, and pushed Eamonn to keep going, even when I knew that he wanted to stop. Of course, when he needed to pause I let him.

Eamonn made it around the Reservoir and we have gone for a number of outdoor walks since. I know it hasn’t been so easy for him, and it’s still not his bike, but I am incredibly proud of his endurance, determination, and fight. I know that he will eventually be back on his bike and throwing kicks in capoeira class because that is just who Eamonn is.

On Marathon Monday, while we were eating dinner, Eamonn looked at me and said, “Some day I think I’ll do the Boston Marathon.” I believe it.

 

You’re Welcome, UPS. April 3, 2012

Filed under: My posts — elanaalfred @ 12:31 am

For many summers I went to sleep-away camp and I remember how exciting it was to get a package in the mail. After lunch, during rest hour, when we were all (supposed to be) quiet in our bunks, if there was a care package waiting for you in head bunk, your name would be announced over the loud speaker for all of girl’s area to hear. Some campers experienced the joy of this on a regular basis, while the rest of us tried to mask our jealousy. It’s funny to think back at what made us all so giddy, tearing up the boxes to see what was inside- nail polish, magazines, books, stuffed animals, and other little goodies. I was lucky if there was a package sent to me even once a month.

Times have changed since those summer camp days. Most days I come home from work and I see at least one package waiting in the building lobby. Sometimes I can tell immediately that it belongs to us, but for the most part, I have to get a closer look—but I have learned that when in doubt, it is addressed to apartment #12. But, I should not say it belongs to “us” because they are almost never addressed to me, but rather specifically to Eamonn.
In all of the packages are drugs. Packages full of medical supplies that one would think would last a lifetime. Unfortunately, they don’t. The packages keep coming. In them are Eamonn’s pills of all varieties, shake mixes he takes to gain weight, inhalation drugs, and once in a while, medical equipment.

Last week's deliveries.

The packages come in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and even textures. Some boxes are small and square—these are the ones I often get prematurely excited about, thinking they might be for me. Others are shorter and rectangular so they take up a bit more floor space once in our apartment. Then there are the white, styrofoam coolers that carry the inhalation drugs, which need to stay refrigerated and cooled for their entire trip. When I notice these in the lobby they receive an involuntary eye roll because I hate styrofoam, and we cannot repurpose them as bins for our recycling. In some instances, these coolers are even packaged inside a larger box, successfully fooling me. However, I can admit that it is impressive that there are ways to ship refrigerated medicine across the country. Then there are the massive boxes. They’re so big that I can sit inside them (I’ve done it, so don’t doubt me). The best part about these boxes is that there are more boxes inside! They’re like Mary Poppins’ purse—more and more keep coming. In fact, the contents of the smaller boxes inside the one large box are…you guessed it, even smaller boxes. In these are Eamonn’s shake mix packets, which he uses 2-3 times a day, so the supply runs out quickly. Which only means more boxes!

All of these packages mean one thing—our apartment is often full of empty boxes. On most days it appears as if we are getting ready to move.  This is not the case. However, when we are ready to move it’s nice to know that packing will be that much simpler (though I’d imagine we’d use these boxes to hold Eamonn’s  drugs that came in them originally!).

The frequency of receiving packages has become somewhat humorous. If our neighbors have noticed by now who all of these packages are addressed to, it would be interesting to know what they think we are doing. I really can’t complain about having to carry them upstairs most of the time, or having them take up space in the apartment, because inside carries Eamonn’s life line. Without all of these boxes Eamonn wouldn’t be getting his needed medicines and drugs. And, when the packages are actually for me it’s that much more exciting– like being a kid at camp again!