I
had my last appointment yesterday morning with my orthopedic
surgeon, the doc who operated on my broken ankle at the end of March.
I must admit I didn't expect this would be my last appointment--not
because I have been experiencing increased pain or recurring problems
with my ankle, for that has not been the case, but because I had
thought my appointment in September would be my last. This time
I set aside my expectations, only hoping more healing and
improvement would be recognized.
Although
some healing still needs to occur, I don't have to return unless
problems develop.
You
know the Christmas carol "The Twelve Days of Christmas"?
Well, I felt like the Lords A-Leapin'. A sense of euphoria. I
immediately felt lighter and stronger, and even more flexible. I felt
as if I had graduated to a new state of ease and surety. Not that I
won't continue to be extra careful. I promise you I will, but I don't
feel injured any more. I don't even feel quite as old any more.
Did
my bones suddenly knit together completely as I walked from my car
into the medical building? Did the remaining occasional swelling melt
into the atmosphere as I walked into the x-ray room? Did the slight
stiffness dissipate as I took off my sock for the doc to examine my
ankle? No, to all those questions, but I physically felt some mending
in my mind when I was told I don't need another appointment.
Suddenly, breaking
my ankle felt like an event in the past, rather than part of my
current story, and that feels important. Rather than coping with
a broken ankle now, I recall breaking my ankle nine months ago
and moving through all the stages of healing.
That
was then and this is now.
I
feel a bit more whole. True, I still often need to go down steps
each foot on each step, and true, I don't yet have the full stamina,
the ability to stand or walk for as long as I did before the
accident. Some days a limp is detected, and I am always grateful for
my husband's arm as we maneuver across an icy parking lot, and I
remain puzzled by inquiries about how the accident occurred that
seemed to imply I could have prevented it. However, I am
now living my life in an easier fashion, and I don't feel as defined
by an injury as I felt in the past months.
So
what did I learn? Well, there were many opportunities to learn
patience and acceptance, along with lessons about receiving help
and kindness of others. I learned how to be clearer in what I
needed. I learned how quickly one's situation can change, and I
learned to adapt to this particular change, which I hope will benefit
me when faced with future changes.
I
slowed my pace and became more aware of where each step took me.
The ordinary became more extraordinary. The light and love
in my life seemed brighter and more all-encompassing. I was more able
to touch all the reasons to be grateful in my life.
Obviously,
I am thrilled to be at this stage of healing, to be this many months
away from the event, but it was just one event in my life. One with
temporary consequences. Life has continued as I have healed, and
while I have not always been able to participate in the life around
me as fully as I would have liked, my life has not been on back
order.
I
learned to be present to each step.
May
that be so.
An
Invitation
What
opportunities have entered your life --unbidden or
welcomed--to learn how to be present to each step? Are there past events that need to be in the past? In what ways do
you put your life on "back order" and how might you become
more present to your whole life? Now. I would love to know.
What great news! All best wishes as you walk with confidence into the new year!
ReplyDeleteOur bodies are powerful teachers, aren't they? This has been a year of learning from my body too--to slow down, pay attention, and appreciate each new day, grateful for the medical miracle of "replacement parts"!!:) Charlene
You are a wise woman.
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