Over the course of a very busy, back to school prep week, I observed not one but two people using a cane and moving very slowly toward where they wanted to go; both on the same day but in completely different settings. One, during Open House at my school and the other at the end of a football scrimmage at the high school after the game.
Did I ever really notice other people with these struggles in every-day settings before? I don’t think so. Not like this.
I watched both of them for a minute and brushed away a tear or two. Nothing but compassion and empathy, and a silent prayer that whatever was causing the use of the cane could be remedied at some point in the near future.
That was me for most of the month of May, all of June, and several weeks into July, 2022. I wrote about the challenges of my post-surgery experiences in my last blog post: https://beyondmudpies.org/2022/06/24/if-the-shoe-fits/
I had an anxiety dream somewhere in that timeframe and before the late June surgery, that I was chaperoning a teenager’s field trip to San Francisco, of all the possible anxiety-inducing cities for someone with limited mobility. I have never even been to San Francisco, so the mind can be funny that way.
In the dream, we had become separated from the group and were frantically trying to find them so we would not miss the bus home. My teenager was trying to help me, while also trying to find her friends and peers. We had to turn around and change directions several times. I just couldn’t keep up and it was painful and unspeakably difficult on the uphill, cobblestone sidewalks with my cane. We were officially lost.
The pain I was feeling in the dream was real as the knee would frequently wake me up, often denying me a good night’s rest, to add insult to injury.
Over the past week, just in time for the start of an exciting new school year, as a teacher and parent of two 11th graders, I was “dismissed” from Orthopedic services following a final post-surgery follow up.
I spent six blissful hours working in my yard on a Saturday to celebrate.
Mowing the yard with a push mower, and the sustained back and forth required on the knee to do so, not to mention the potential hazard of stepping into a hidden hole in the ground (there are several in the yard, home to our beloved Bassett Hound) was going to be the most difficult activity for me to re-establish, according to my physical therapist in one of my earliest appointments back in July. I could barely walk forward at that point, much less backward.
The hours in physical therapy, summer mornings on the stationary bike and time at the local high school stadium- initially taking the smallest of unsupported steps on the soft track surface and later, testing my progress and strength in slowly walking up, down and across the bleachers, paid off yesterday. I have more PT work to do for certain, through the fall, but I successfully completed the yard work day without so much as needing an ice pack at the end.
To anyone reading this blog who might still be recovering from an injury or surgery; to anyone for whom no amount of surgery and physical therapy can restore full mobility: I send you all the encouragement, love and prayers I possibly can.
To those who might be reading this blog who offered kindness, encouragement, love and support in countless ways during my pre and post surgical experiences, I appreciate you more than you will ever know.
On the eve of a brand new school year: Goodbye to the Summer of Recovery, 2022.