Jeff's care team has brought forth a proposal for him to enter inpatient treatment for physical therapy.

Sounds like good news, right?

Well, we feel a bit ambivalent about it. It would mean daily physical therapy for several hours a day. It would mean him walking unassisted sooner than later. While we are open to the idea, we feel like we need more information to make an informed decision.

The second part to our apprehension is that Jeff does not feel ready yet for several hours-daily, did I mention that part?-of physical therapy. Right now, he is averaging 10 steps every time we go in. He gets exhausted quickly. The programs require a certain amount of stamina, not to mention the ability to tolerate the pain that comes with walking.  He also worries about losing access to pool therapy, which he really enjoys.

We both so much want to return to our normal lives, though I think we have figured out that may never happen again-at least not the sense of normal as we used to know it, and now realize, took for granted. This decision is not fraught with tension in the same way as other decisions we have had to face in the recent months, but this one feels a little more present. Maybe even a little more potent, if that descriptor is accurate for a decision. What I mean is, it has a sense of immediacy to it.

Today, I keep reminding myself of a quote that I love very much by the esteemed author and life coach, Martha Beck: "I rest my pace." Catchy, right? I feel as though a good many things in life lately have been propelling me forward, and I am just spiraling around, trying to multitask at impossible speeds, in order to maintain a sense of control. I have to keep reminding myself to rest my pace. Most things in life can wait, and this is certainly one of them. We have time to gather information and prepare. There is still an application to be completed. It's not like we're packing his bags tonight, thank goodness.

I rest my pace, with this in particular, and with everything else. How are you resting your pace?