Yesterday I was allowed to start weight-bearing.
For some reason I had it in my mind that I could put full weight down and at
least walk across the room. Imagine my surprise when this wasn't the
case. You may as well have pulled a bag over my head, tied my hands
behind my back, spun me around, and thrown me in a rubber room. Not
completely sure what I was thinking; however, this cloud of dependency is the
pittiest of pits -- pit in terms of a deep, dark hole, as opposed to pity.
This experience has been humbling to say the least. Having to ask
for help, well, let's just say that I am not very good at it. But this not being able to endure the pain, well, just makes me feel weak.
Word to the not-so-wise and the wise, make sure to
plan outings. Right after scheduling my surgery, my friends emailed me
that Jackson Browne was coming to town. So after getting the ok from Dr.
Nick, I purchased a ticket. My two concert peeps took great care of me, as did
many strangers who held open doors (bathroom doors are not so easy) and we did
a night on the town. A couple of gin and tonics and some really great
music (I refrained from shouting out Neil Young songs) and I can now admit that I've clawed my way out of yet another pit of depression. Not so easy when I usually go for a run to keep me emotionally healthy. Another reason I am indulging myself with a blog.
So today has been a better day. I find myself today sitting on my front porch
watching the traffic go by, listening in to walkers' phone conversations -not my
fault. I hear them coming like a shod runner pounding the pavement.
Literally. My front porch has been a revolving door of visitors. Of course my parents have been here. Then my friend Joan, who just returned from Austria after 3 plus weeks, stopped by to chat. Next came Adele and John with babycakes, Ainsley. They just returned from Monaco and Rome. It's great to have the world travellers back and on my front porch.
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