From someone that didn’t have one, a plan B is not just a good idea or a through, or something you might do something about sometime later, it is a necessity.
I had every intention of working into my late sixties. I was healthy, productive, and had no urgent need to retire.
My Plan A was to have an active retirement, enjoy some gardening, photography, and traveling. Seemed like a reasonable goal.
Unfortunately, my body disagreed with that plan.
As a working R.N., I spent long days on my feet. It is natural to have some aches and pains after a long shift, nothing a few Tylenol didn’t take care of. Once the pandemic took over, shifts got longer, heavier, and days off disappeared.
And the pain got a bit worse. Finally, I started to limp but thought I was hiding it reasonably well.
Nurses are experts at ignoring the warning signals their bodies give them and excellent at catching everyone else’s.
Soon, my hip started to complain, as well as my knees. X-rays showed arthritis. I thought, ‘No big deal. Everyone over sixty has arthritis.’
Well, it turned out to be a big deal the day my hip gave out on me.
I had to stop working. I was crushed. Not only did I feel like I was abandoning my work family, but my income was cut in half, and the pain was horrible.
Covid has put all surgeries on hold, so that wasn’t an option. I was home, in pain, sporting a knee brace and walking with a cane. I was having an identity crisis.
I felt useless and invisible. My support system had always been my fellow nurses, and now that I wasn’t with them anymore, I felt isolated. Covid made things worse. And I had no idea what I was going to do with the long days and pain-filled nights that stretched out in front of me.
I had no Plan B
I would sleep most of the day and live in my pyjamas. There was no point in getting dressed. There was nowhere to go. I’d shower a couple of times a week. I binge-watched Netflix. I started smoking again.
I spent about forty-five days in this state. Those were very dark days.
Slowly, I started to remember who I truly am.
I was so tied up with my work identity that I had lost my true identity.
I began to get dressed in the morning.
Slowly, my true self fought her way out. Finally, I started to see that I had to let my work identity die so my true identity could burst forth.
I summoned the will to be visible again. I started wearing makeup.
I put away my work clothes and dug out some colourful summer clothes. I started meditating.
I quit smoking.
I understood that this upheaval opened the door for a new chapter of my life.
Remembering my childhood love of writing, I started to journal. I found encouragement on Medium.
The dark days are behind me now.
I built plan B the hard way. I hope you never have to do that. We never know what the future has in store for us, what twists and turns will disrupt the path we are on. I am starting to work on a Plan C now, just in case.
