I have to say, I didn’t really understand the crap that comes along with injury. I broke my arm really bad when I was 13 and had a cast for four months. At 13, it was super cool. At 41, this is not cool.
I have a nice new boot, see? Fashion statement it is not. At first, it was like a torture device but now it makes hobbling on crutches easier. Not easy, easiER. I can’t put any weight on that leg, so the struggle is real.
It’s been just a week, but I’ve learned a lot: Toilets are way too low. Most doors don’t open themselves, and those are the heaviest doors. Standing on one leg to brush your teeth is harder than you think. Sometimes crawling is the best way to go. You have to either cry or scream to not implode. Stairs SUCK. It’s not always worth the effort to go pee. You can’t carry a coffee cup with just two fingers. Pain hurts, a lot. Driving is a privilege. Sitting naked on the edge of the tub to take a shower is not a good look, ever. It is possible to miss cleaning the house, cooking, and doing laundry.
But here are the REAL things I have learned this week:
Being able to wog at ANY speed is a gift.
It could always be worse, so try to be grateful in the midst of tears.
Having someone to help you that also loves you is a blessing beyond words.
Personal pity parties are okay, but try to make a joke soon after.
Sometimes you have to give people directions, but don’t think they will do it like you would do it. Let it go.
If you think you are too weak/sore/tired to stand up even one more time, do it anyway. You don’t have a choice.
You are valued by those around you more than you realized, and perhaps more than they did too.
I had an MRI yesterday, and I go back to the orthopedic surgeon Monday to get the results and next steps. Here’s praying that it’s PT and this chapter is nearing the end. Crutches crossed!!!