Monday, July 15, 2013

Thank You Parties

The best advice I can offer is this: try to avoid situations which will require you to throw one.

TBG and I are attending the Pilates Diva's this afternoon.  It's been a little over two years since we held ours. I've been antsy all day.  

It's odd, since there aren't any similarities, on the surface, at least.  True, we were both victims of young-ish, white, men, but unless you are one of those who is recasting the George Zimmerman affair, I don't think that's relevant. Mental illness and irresponsible gun solutions are behind my injuries; The Pilates Diva's guy nodded off behind the wheel. 

I find her story to be much more likely to alter my way of life than I've found my own to be.  She was behind her husband on their tandem bike when the SUV proved, once again, that two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. TBG hasn't gotten back on his own road bike since he was forced into an uncovered drainage hole and turned his face into hamburger. I'm not sure I'd get back on a bike again after viewing my accident from the roadway itself, pinned under a bike I couldn't move, while watching cars fly by. I can't stop going to the grocery store, or hanging out with my little friends, or being politically involved.  I could, I think, stop cycling.

Then, again, maybe not.  Certainly not if I followed our hostess's example.  She ate organic, unprocessed, natural, pure foods.  She followed her exercise regimen devotedly.  She didn't dwell in the negative spaces, although she didn't ignore them, either.  Her husband was injured, too, as was their cycling partner. The bike was damaged beyond repair.  She could hardly wait to get back in the saddle.

She slipped in a hip replacement between the accident and this photo.
One year ago she was broken.  
Not so much any more, as you can see.

And so I began to think about all the people who pitched in to make recovery just a little less awful.  I brought her Arnica cream and Mederma and my walker and the bedside commode.... which is making the rounds of my family and friends at an alarming rate these days. As I carried the satchel into her house, I felt like the next link in the chain to which I became connected in January, 2011.  Strangers fed me, smiled at me, held doors and my hand and my heart, just for a moment, but as necessary to my recovery as were the squats and the leg lifts and the push-ups. 

As I laid my treasures on her counter-top, Marvin stepped in... to say Hi... to see how her husband was doing. Though I'd bowed out of cooking dinners - a wise choice for all concerned - that evening's meal was on its way shortly, their daughter reassured me.  "There are so many people who want to help."

Tonight we'll be drinking margaritas and admiring her roses and toasting her good health... and I'll slip in a quiet thank you for my own. We'll celebrate good friends and helpful neighbors and we will be grateful... very, very grateful. Because we both know, no matter how much it aches, no matter how much we wish things were just as they used to be, no matter at all.... the sun came up this morning and we were here to see it.  By definition, it's a good day.

L'Chaim!  To Life!


  1. When my brother broke his leg from skateboarding, he was back on his bike a month later and it helped with his rehabilitation. He has a rod in his leg and the therapists said biking was great exercise. I don't know if I could get back on a bike if what happened to your friend happened to me. So scary!

    Glad you and your friend are on the mend. :)

    Sending hugs!

    Megan xxx

    1. Bravery comes in all shapes and sizes, doesn't it, Megan?!

  2. I was not ever physically active, so I have no bike to get back on after my pelvic fractures heal. At this point it's just a challenge to stand up to go to the bathroom. And yet it feels so good to briefly stand since I'm getting way too much sitting in the wheelchair time! But your last paragraph resonates with me (well, except for the margaritas, since I'm in a rehab facility) - it could always be worse and I'm so glad it's not! I simply had an accident, involving no one other than myself, so there's no one to blame and now life goes on, just differently.

    1. It's so lovely to be able to blame someone..... but the reality is that blame only gets you so far and then it's you and the pelvis and rehab. As you say, life goes on, just differently.

      Healing vibes heading your way <3

  3. People who bring food are just THE BEST. After Jim (husband) shoved his femur through his acetabulum when he was ejected from his bicycle, people would ask what could they do. Bring food, I said, and they did. Such a relief it was to not have to think about dinner or fix it. I am happy your friends are back on their bike. We are, as well, but it takes awhile to get over it. I've been hit by cars twice, but we'll never know what happened to Jim. No witnesses, no memory.

    1. OUCH! I know both of those sites intimately (femur and acetabulum) and I repeat - OUCH! Here's to good friends who feed us, relieving one more pressure from the world around rehab.


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