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TO SWIM OR NOT TO SWIM is NOT the Question Margaret Dinnsen, Eagle Valley Wl 1st Place, Non- Fiction, 2002 After years of struggling with arthritis, I required aids such as strategically placed bars and walkers, in ever increasing complexity. Two years ago a severe deep vein thrombosis put me into hospital and further immobilized me. I required a wheel chair. Without the encouragement and daily assistance of my youngest daughter, I would surely have given in and cashed out. Her persistent and constant care over the year convinced me to put some effort into recuperation, which I did. My general overall health improved, but my legs were becoming weaker as I depended more and more on the wheel chair, the walker, and my arms to get me about. I spent a lot of time contemplating what to do, and swimming always came to mind. The problem was how to get into a pool that I could get out of... I figured I could fall into any of them. Didsbury and Innisfail pools were suggested, and we tried them both. Both are wheelchair friendly, and with the assistance of my daughter, I was wheeled in and out of the pools. Scheduling was a problem. On several occasions we were refused entry due to staff meetings or pool cleaning. As each of these pools require a drive, a driver and several hours, the trips to the pool soon petered out. But then Sundre opened their pool and I was excited. Here was a facility near to home and in the very town we often frequented, so getting there and back was much less of a problem. An older grandson attended Sundre School, and my husband drove in and out for farm supplies and repairs, banking and grocery shopping. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered there was no way for me to get out of the pool! I became very discouraged and stopped trying to swim. After a time my arms began to object to the weight they were required to hold and I spent many hours in my lift chair. I put on 50 pounds. This was over and above the extra hundred pounds the surgeon required me to lose before operating on my right hip. From the beginning I had not liked the idea of being cut open and my leg bone being forcibly removed, sawn off, attached to a metal socket and replaced. The idea was even less appealing when I was told it was not a permanent fix, that after five years it may have to be redone. As time progressed and pain control kicked in, the operation seemed less and less attractive. In January, I began to devise ways of getting once again into the water. Now it was not a question of whether to swim or not, but how I could swim, and where. I investigated hotels with swimming pools and convinced myself that if I could swim for an hour every day, my muscles would respond.
Object Description
Rating | |
Title | Write On! |
Language | en |
Date | 2002 |
Description
Title | Page 35 |
Language | en |
Transcript | TO SWIM OR NOT TO SWIM is NOT the Question Margaret Dinnsen, Eagle Valley Wl 1st Place, Non- Fiction, 2002 After years of struggling with arthritis, I required aids such as strategically placed bars and walkers, in ever increasing complexity. Two years ago a severe deep vein thrombosis put me into hospital and further immobilized me. I required a wheel chair. Without the encouragement and daily assistance of my youngest daughter, I would surely have given in and cashed out. Her persistent and constant care over the year convinced me to put some effort into recuperation, which I did. My general overall health improved, but my legs were becoming weaker as I depended more and more on the wheel chair, the walker, and my arms to get me about. I spent a lot of time contemplating what to do, and swimming always came to mind. The problem was how to get into a pool that I could get out of... I figured I could fall into any of them. Didsbury and Innisfail pools were suggested, and we tried them both. Both are wheelchair friendly, and with the assistance of my daughter, I was wheeled in and out of the pools. Scheduling was a problem. On several occasions we were refused entry due to staff meetings or pool cleaning. As each of these pools require a drive, a driver and several hours, the trips to the pool soon petered out. But then Sundre opened their pool and I was excited. Here was a facility near to home and in the very town we often frequented, so getting there and back was much less of a problem. An older grandson attended Sundre School, and my husband drove in and out for farm supplies and repairs, banking and grocery shopping. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered there was no way for me to get out of the pool! I became very discouraged and stopped trying to swim. After a time my arms began to object to the weight they were required to hold and I spent many hours in my lift chair. I put on 50 pounds. This was over and above the extra hundred pounds the surgeon required me to lose before operating on my right hip. From the beginning I had not liked the idea of being cut open and my leg bone being forcibly removed, sawn off, attached to a metal socket and replaced. The idea was even less appealing when I was told it was not a permanent fix, that after five years it may have to be redone. As time progressed and pain control kicked in, the operation seemed less and less attractive. In January, I began to devise ways of getting once again into the water. Now it was not a question of whether to swim or not, but how I could swim, and where. I investigated hotels with swimming pools and convinced myself that if I could swim for an hour every day, my muscles would respond. |
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