I am slowly working my way off my crutches. It’s taking longer than I expected, which can be frustrating, but at the same time I am noticing progress so I try not to get discouraged. Down to one crutch for most of the day, I can hobble short distances unassisted as long as my baby knee cartilage doesn’t get too painfully sore. Recovery is a long road without an express lane.
Since my surgery back in early September, I’ve been to two funerals and a wedding on crutches. I’ve attended birthday parties, propped up on a chair in the corner of a restaurant with people asking me if I need more drinks. I’ve returned to work and hobbled around the building I once speed-walked through on a daily basis. I’ve gone camping for a night. I’ve spent countless hours in physical therapy. I went to the late-night opening of a goddamn Twilight movie. In other words, life goes on.
Because recovery can be utterly depressing, I do my best to focus on all of the positives, no matter how small. There are countless good samaritans who go out of their way to open a door for you or give up their train seat (this experience has renewed my faith in humanity). I have the best excuse in the world to avoid Black Friday. And helllooooo, handicapped parking!
I yearn for the day I feel ‘normal’ again, but for now, I must learn to get used to my ‘new normal.’ This version of me can’t bust out a set of squats, do high kicks at the karaoke bar, or tear up the dance floor. On the other hand, my ‘new normal’ self has a reawakened appreciation for all of the little moments of the day where I can find peace and serenity–my dog nuzzling me with kisses, enjoying a beer around a campfire with my best friends on a perfect night, a random “I love you” text on a bad day at work. Life goes on, and so will I.
Sparkle on, you crazy vampires.