Thursday, November 19, 2009

Third Person Thursday

She traded in her plaster splint situation for a fancy aircast yesterday.

Now she can sleep without a lot of weight on her foot, but she can't bear down, even though an expert doctor man switched her from non-weight-bearing to weight-bearing. She still has pain. She's getting creative about how to get around. The 4 AM pee-break involved scooting on her butt from the bed to the bathroom and back. She is so glad she has hardwood floors. She also depends on a heel-toe zig-zag dance especially when she's in the kitchen.

She worries about her good foot. She tries to concentrate on NOT breaking it.

She has had a lot of time for reflection since Monday. She has been reflecting on the good old days, back when she could walk. Ha!

She thought about how high her life was in March 2008, and the big long dip to the bottom when she had the seizure. Then the progressive dip to her lowest point in November. She was boxed completely in, darkness all around and the only way out---to climb up. She's been climbing ever since...for an entire year she has been trying to reach that high, happy place that was March 4, 2008. She sees it in the distance, sees that light at the end of the tunnel, but now she's taken a few steps back.

She feels she is on a precipice, she's looking down into that darkness, feeling a gravity that is strong, trying to pull her straight back down. She finds there is power within herself to choose, and she has to make the choice over and over again throughout the day. Time to stand up, make some food, pick up the kids, go somewhere, get dressed, take a shower, get from point A to point B.

She's searching for the lesson, searching for a reason. She has tried not to give up these past 18 months. Now, that last corner to round to March is going to be recovering from a fracture in her foot. Her husband says this happened to give her family an opportunity to serve her. She is perplexed. She is vulnerable, she is hanging on by a foot.

4 comments:

HHRose said...

I agree with J. *HUGS*

Linz said...

Hugs from me too. I sure do hate that precipice. My heart is aching for this fragile path you are on right now and I hope you can feel on more solid ground soon (literally and figuratively).

hdknowles said...

MD Mom says, "where are those crutches" - the picture in my mind of you in the middle of the night crawling from the bedroom to the bathroom and back is slightly comical. However, I too, agree with J, and it's hard to accept help when you are used to doing for others. Maybe someone is telling you to slow down. You are in our prayers. Get out those knitting needles and appreciate the gift of time you've been given. You can get through this, and you have lots of support from those who love you.

Corinne said...

After my ordeal in April, I had to come to the same conclusion: it was time to re-learn how to accept help. One of my very hardest lessons to learn. I am so sorry, friend, for this bend in your road. Feel better soon.