You don’t know what you have until you lose it. What I no longer have–at least for 4-6 weeks–is mobility. Two weeks ago I broke my right foot, specifically the fifth metatarsal, which is the outermost bone of the foot, the one that attaches to your little toe. Such a little bone to casue so much trouble. I can’t put any weight on it at all until I’m out of this boot cast, and I won’t be out of it until I’m completely healed.
I went to my youngest daughter’s home for Thanksgiving and it turned out to be quite an ordeal. I’m fine once I get situated somewhere, but getting up and down the steps to her apartment was tricky and exhausting. I went to bed that night and slept for 14 hours straight. Granted, I’m completely out of shape, but I never thought it could take so much out of me just to go out for a visit.
Fortunately, the weather was beautiful but today it’s raining and there’s a prediction of snow. How am I going to get around in snow? The truth is, I can’t do much of anything, so I sit here on the couch all day surrounded by my computer, books and magazines, and the television. The cats keep me company: one sleeps on the back of the couch and the other on one of the arms. They seem to like it that I’m tied down so that they don’t have to follow me all around the house, which is what they usually do.
I feel terrible because my husband has to do all the work. Everything has fallen on his shoulders. I can get the Christmas cards ready and do some online shopping, but that’s about it. I won’t even be able to put up the Christmas tree. But I can’t go to the grocery, clean the house, cook any meals, do the laundry, run any errands. Not that I ever did much of that anyway, but now on top of what he usually does, my husband has to fetch me food and drink and books (which are like food and drink to me!) and help me up and down the stairs (unfortunately, our only bathroom is on the second floor).
Whenever I wonder how I’m going to stand this for another few weeks, I think of what it must be like for people who are incapacitated like this or worse, permanently. How much courage and perseverance it must take to learn how to do things others take for granted. I keep telling myself that I should be able to do more for myself–after all, there are millions who have to every day who are worse off than I am–but at this point, I admit: I’m overwhelmed.
I just keep praying that God will help me to be strong, and to get stronger. To appreciate that I’m as healthy as I am. And that I’ll be even more appreciative when I’m back in commission again.