Tuesday, March 29, 2011

One Week to Go

Next Monday afternoon I hope to be able to report that Dr. Boaz has released me from my non-weight-bearing status.  My speculation is that physical therapy will be ordered; pilates and yoga... probably not.

These last 7 days are going to be special.  The temptation to rush the healing, to lean on my right side just a little, to wonder if the bone cells really do need the last few hours to heal themselves properly - it's like smelling fresh out of the fryer donuts dangling just out of reach.  I am so tired of being dependent.

Dr. Boaz isn't concerned about my redder than the other foot as long as it doesn't hurt and the temperature doesn't vary.  Apparently, I still have vascularity issues.  Who knew?  His nurse asked me if it was less colorful first thing in the morning, but I never remember to look at my foot first thing in the morning so, once again, who knew? 

I am not used to my body playing tricks on me.  Then again, I've never been shot before.

I missed the Fiesta in the Barrio this weekend.  My concert buddies were busy and a street fair on my own felt more like work than fun.  The Golden Gopher and his lovely wife dropped by Sunday afternoon to share the glow from Calexico and to agree that I had made a wise decision in avoiding the event.  Next year.... next year.

The crepe myrtles are leafing out all around the remains of last year's flowers.  The finches have moved on to tastier pastures and now those remnants just hang there, looking sad.  I suppose that I could get myself over the uneven gravel covered berms and stand close enough to trim them from my walker, but I can hear the screams of "NO!" from those who love me and know of my general clumsiness.  Next week, I guess.

I finished the last of the library books a neighbor toted me over to get.  She was just here, dropping off dinner, and I know that I should have asked her to take me back to the library sometime this week. But asking is really hard for me.  Chicago Gal filters my requests through to the Newcomers Care group; left to my own devices no one would be asked. 

And it's so silly, because everyone seems to take real joy in helping.  People seem to want to be part of my recovery.  It's not celebrity they are seeking.  It's closeness to the tragedy and a sense that they are putting a band aid on an awfully big owie.  There's a tenderness to the outreach, whether it's a home cooked meal from a friend or a giant hug from a total stranger. 

Yes, people feel the need to hug me. This is different from the hands I removed from my pregnant abdomen.  This isn't invading my personal space. This is enveloping me in a communal healing place.  We are hugging one another.

It's weird.  I know.  I know it's weird when it's happening.  And I love it.  I don't get it, but I love it.  I am truly feeling the love.

Someone commented on my cheery attitude last week and I just had to wonder what she expected from me.  Did she expect me to be wracked with misery and remorse?  Quivering? Quavering? Diminished in some way?  Or was she going toward angry and vengeful and filled with rage?  Neither of those extremes appeals to me. 

They don't tempt me.  They won't bring Christina back.  They won't fill the hole in my heart.  There's nothing ..... and that's such a big word I can't get past it. 

I'm not a person who is comfortable with the fact that there isn't some way I can fix the problem.  Just ask the Cuters, or the kids I babysat, or any of my clients; "What do you think we can do about that?" is my natural response to an issue.   Nothing .... absolutely nothing.

So, I smiled at the girl who'd asked about my smile and I said that I was happy, that I was alive, and that was enough for me right now. 

And that's where I am on Monday afternoon: dependent but not despondent.


  1. The days of dependency will be over soon. Spring is here. Healing and renewing from the stillness of winter, it forces it's head and brings forth new life....just like you. One day at a time you get closer and closer to being pushed out of the stillness and into the bright light of independance. It won't be long. The thought of that makes me smile for you....debbie

  2. People seem to want to be part of my recovery. It's not celebrity they are seeking.

    Oh, I don't know about that -- I was sorta hoping for celebrity, myself. :)

    Seriously: so glad to know that you are sooooo close to something like (physical) wellness that you're vaguely toying with breaking a rule or two in the last few days of the official recovery period. Even gladder to know, of course, that you are clearly WAY too level-headed to do any more than tease yourself with those thoughts!

    When you're back to 100%, and this will probably have to wait for the fall now (given the climate, I mean), if you're still feeling restless maybe you can host a similarly themed mini-Fiesta in your back yard, for close friends and neighbors. Fiesta en el Burrow. Heck, charge admission if that feels too self-indulgent, and give the proceeds to some charity. Advertise it as "the Fiesta for those of us too recently perforated to make the real one," or however you say that in Spanish. I'd shake a long-distance pair of maracas for you.

  3. A good attitude is half the battle - so "they" say. I wouldn't press too hard for using the leg before the time is right. You don't want to jinx it. I have a neighbor who hasn't been able to walk for over a year now, due to hip-surgery gone wrong and a hospital-caught infection that she can't get rid of, since her body won't tolerate broad spectrum antibiotics. She tried to walk when she was sent home from the hospital; fell and broke her femur and that resulted in the necessity for a second hip replacement - in the future. I hope you will pay strict attention to what the docs and PT's tell you!

  4. Please be good for a few more days! The Aged Parm is having knee replacement surgery before long, and we need you to be an inspiration to her as she recovers afterward. You can't be a credible inspiration if you mess up your hip. xoxoxo

  5. Aieeeeee! I knew you guys would be nagging me to be compliant!! I promise! I promise! I promise!

  6. I posted earlier, but something must have happened to my post. I'm glad you are able to smile. I think it's important for you to not wallow in despair (although, I'm sure many of us would), Your experience as a counselor is helping you immensely.

    And by smiling and being happy to be alive, you are honoring CT. She wouldn't want you to be sad. She would want you to go on living and live life to the fullest.

    Sending love and hugs your way,

    Megan xxx

  7. The simple fact that you are feeling good enough to be tempted to break "the rules" shows the strength of your will. A good sign!!
    Smile and feel it spread through your body.

  8. Chomping at the bit, dancing in the gate...I love it! So pleased for you that this seemingly endless, Douglas-grounded time is almost over.

    None of my feet is ever the same color as any of the others.

    Found myself looking online at condos in Tucson this week. Golly, there are some deals to be had!

  9. What I expected when I met you last week was.... a quieter you. Does that make sense? From reading a few blog posts, I somehow had a picture in my mind. I expected you to be quieter, older ;), not nearly as outgoing.
    I was pleasantly surprised. I love your attitude and your sassiness.

  10. Big "hmmm" about feeling the need to hug you. I am not even going to try to explain that, but I know exactly what you're talking about. It's not even optional - it just feels right and appropriate. I'm intrigued that lots of people have the same reaction!

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