My Purple Cast
I have been adjusting these past few weeks to life in a purple cast, and using crutches as my main source of transportation. Although my cast is looking extremely lovely, after my crafty niece, Amy, and my grandchildren decorated it for me; and my crutches are soft and cushy, since my wonderful hubby bought brightly colored cushions for it; I have to say, I’m growing extremely weary of being encumbered. On the plus side, this unwanted adventure does allow me extra writing time, I’m all for that. On the negative side, any little chore takes twice as long while hobbling around with crutches in tow, and that tends to cut down on the writing time. Sigh!
Helpless as a baby
These past few weeks have been an exercise in relinquishing control, and learning to trust. (The only exercise I’ve been getting, other than an upper body workout from using crutches.) From the moment Bob found me face down on the floor, unable to walk due to a broken ankle, as well as being sick as a dog; my world completely changed. Any semblance of dignity flew out the window; I had become in some senses as helpless as a baby; only I’m not a baby. As Bob assisted me with everything—and I do mean everything—I was reminded of both of his parents, and my mother, when their health began to diminish. The strong, healthy, vital people they had once been, slowly, over time as their age increased, and health decreased, became frail shells of their former selves. They, as I, needed help with every part of their daily lives. Frightening!
Nothing’s simple
The simplest of things, walking across the room to get a tissue, hobbling to the kitchen, getting ready for bed at night, having to get up in the middle of the night for a nature call, getting washed up for the day; all were done through pain, and with a great amount of trepidation. My balance was off, I was shaky and unsteady on my feet, or should I say foot. The fear of falling was a constant, the fear of breaking my ankle worse or breaking something else, also a constant. My world became the love seat, and whatever I could reach from my place of honor. I had for all intense and purposes lost all semblance of control. And through this time I had no other choice but to “let go and let God, and let Bob.” During the worst of times, I found myself feeling useless, helpless, hopeless and burdensome. Possibly as our parents may also have felt.
WHY?
During this time I also found myself asking God “why?” all the time. “Why is this happening to me again?” “Wasn’t my spring and summer already difficult enough, did I need a broken ankle as well?” “Why had I gotten sick, AGAIN, leaving me as weak as I had been?” Why, why, why. And I will admit, there was a tiny bit of anger tossed in the mix. “Really! This is happening again?! You have got to be kidding!!!!!” All the plans I had made to get the gardens ready for fall—gone. Playing with my grandson—severely limited. I just couldn’t understand why? But, I guess I didn’t really have to understand. I had to learn to trust.
Never Alone
Once I was able to battle through the fog of anger and questioning, I found myself coming to a place of…well, I don’t know what place I came to, but it was better. I watched as my husband took care of me, pampered me, worried about me, and as useless as I felt, I also felt loved. I found myself encouraging him during his weak and exhausted moments. I grabbed hold of every tiny morsel of hope as far as my healing was concerned. Today is better than yesterday, and tomorrow will be better still. I came to realize that even though I couldn’t understand why this happened, I was learning that I hadn’t been alone during it. God was with me every step of the way, even when I was lying on the floor. My time of involuntary house arrest, allowed me the opportunity to slow down--way down—and appreciate the little things. To let go of the mundane annoyances that tended to send me into states of irritation in the blink of an eye. I had to learn to trust Bob to do all the things that I was supposed to be doing; and he did a great job. I found myself smiling at him more than usual, saying thank-you more than usual, and appreciating the amazing husband I had been taking for granted.
Thankfully my time in my pretty purple cast is nearing an end; it comes off in a week. Yay! I will then be put into some sort of walking brace which should be able to come off for showers and such. Again, Yay! I have been informed by its decorators' that I have to save their artwork, which means saving the cast. Perhaps I need to get it framed. These past few weeks have not been easy, but are getting better; one day at a time. Thanks to an amazing God who has never and will never leave me alone, and an amazing husband who gave every part of himself to help me during this time.
I have been adjusting these past few weeks to life in a purple cast, and using crutches as my main source of transportation. Although my cast is looking extremely lovely, after my crafty niece, Amy, and my grandchildren decorated it for me; and my crutches are soft and cushy, since my wonderful hubby bought brightly colored cushions for it; I have to say, I’m growing extremely weary of being encumbered. On the plus side, this unwanted adventure does allow me extra writing time, I’m all for that. On the negative side, any little chore takes twice as long while hobbling around with crutches in tow, and that tends to cut down on the writing time. Sigh!
Helpless as a baby
These past few weeks have been an exercise in relinquishing control, and learning to trust. (The only exercise I’ve been getting, other than an upper body workout from using crutches.) From the moment Bob found me face down on the floor, unable to walk due to a broken ankle, as well as being sick as a dog; my world completely changed. Any semblance of dignity flew out the window; I had become in some senses as helpless as a baby; only I’m not a baby. As Bob assisted me with everything—and I do mean everything—I was reminded of both of his parents, and my mother, when their health began to diminish. The strong, healthy, vital people they had once been, slowly, over time as their age increased, and health decreased, became frail shells of their former selves. They, as I, needed help with every part of their daily lives. Frightening!
Nothing’s simple
The simplest of things, walking across the room to get a tissue, hobbling to the kitchen, getting ready for bed at night, having to get up in the middle of the night for a nature call, getting washed up for the day; all were done through pain, and with a great amount of trepidation. My balance was off, I was shaky and unsteady on my feet, or should I say foot. The fear of falling was a constant, the fear of breaking my ankle worse or breaking something else, also a constant. My world became the love seat, and whatever I could reach from my place of honor. I had for all intense and purposes lost all semblance of control. And through this time I had no other choice but to “let go and let God, and let Bob.” During the worst of times, I found myself feeling useless, helpless, hopeless and burdensome. Possibly as our parents may also have felt.
WHY?
During this time I also found myself asking God “why?” all the time. “Why is this happening to me again?” “Wasn’t my spring and summer already difficult enough, did I need a broken ankle as well?” “Why had I gotten sick, AGAIN, leaving me as weak as I had been?” Why, why, why. And I will admit, there was a tiny bit of anger tossed in the mix. “Really! This is happening again?! You have got to be kidding!!!!!” All the plans I had made to get the gardens ready for fall—gone. Playing with my grandson—severely limited. I just couldn’t understand why? But, I guess I didn’t really have to understand. I had to learn to trust.
Never Alone
Once I was able to battle through the fog of anger and questioning, I found myself coming to a place of…well, I don’t know what place I came to, but it was better. I watched as my husband took care of me, pampered me, worried about me, and as useless as I felt, I also felt loved. I found myself encouraging him during his weak and exhausted moments. I grabbed hold of every tiny morsel of hope as far as my healing was concerned. Today is better than yesterday, and tomorrow will be better still. I came to realize that even though I couldn’t understand why this happened, I was learning that I hadn’t been alone during it. God was with me every step of the way, even when I was lying on the floor. My time of involuntary house arrest, allowed me the opportunity to slow down--way down—and appreciate the little things. To let go of the mundane annoyances that tended to send me into states of irritation in the blink of an eye. I had to learn to trust Bob to do all the things that I was supposed to be doing; and he did a great job. I found myself smiling at him more than usual, saying thank-you more than usual, and appreciating the amazing husband I had been taking for granted.
Thankfully my time in my pretty purple cast is nearing an end; it comes off in a week. Yay! I will then be put into some sort of walking brace which should be able to come off for showers and such. Again, Yay! I have been informed by its decorators' that I have to save their artwork, which means saving the cast. Perhaps I need to get it framed. These past few weeks have not been easy, but are getting better; one day at a time. Thanks to an amazing God who has never and will never leave me alone, and an amazing husband who gave every part of himself to help me during this time.
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