Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
All original content by me is licensed under the CC BY-NC 3.0 License
Never taking movement for granted again.
Ben got me a very nice wheelchair with a padded leg rest and took me out on a walk yesterday. It was a rare day in Boston — beautiful, warm, sunny, perfect even. My meds were working nearly flawlessly despite hours on the therapy machine. And for the first time in months, I was moving (or at least being moved) without pain. Priceless.
I giggled. I called out all the things that caught my attention like a child: Look, the tulips are out! Mass Ave! Birds! Sunshine! On the way home I cried literal tears of joy, just for having had a few perfect easy minutes of outside air and mobility.
The past few days have been pretty hard. Pain is nearly constant despite my 5 pill painkiller cocktail, I’m strapped to my therapy machine (which insurance is not covering) for 12 hours a day, sleep is almost impossible, and the longer I’m completely immobile and strapped down all night and day the more the rest of my body rebels in little ways.
Ben is graduating today, I am not. But if I can walk my favorite places again soon with my natural leg without pain or crutches or braces or canes or any other medical device, this will all have been worth it :)
Hi Tumblr.
Long time no talk. Bear with me; it’s been a tough few months.
I’m going in for surgery in a few hours to repair (see also: replace) my ACL using a graft from my thigh. It snapped completely at a dance practice, probably due to an improperly diagnosed and healed previous tear.
At first I was depressed by the inconvenience of it all: Missing my last performance, missing classes because of how intolerable/long my commute became, the inability to get anywhere on my own at any time, the general switch from busy body to hermit. Then came the insurance problems. Then school & family problems… It felt unbearable to me in private but I played down the injury amongst friends and did my best to show face when/where I can.
Then the Marathon happened and I was angry. At the messed situation, at myself for crying over (in comparison) spilt milk.
But the truth is, I’m still scared of tomorrow. And I’ve been in denial so long about everything. I’m scared of the pain, of using painkillers, of waking up disoriented and alone. I’m afraid that even though Ben is the only “family” I have coming to take care of me, the hospital won’t let him in. I’m scared of the recovery and I wish I had a family member who could help me. In the end it’s such a small procedure but…
Head up, and stiff upper lip. Some goals for the time I’m down:
1) Get off of painkillers early. Follow physical therapy to a T.
2) Teach myself elementary German.
3) Write all belated letters and cards.
4) Get my life back on track by the one month mark.
5) Reward myself by going to the US-Germany int’l friendly in Washington DC on June 3rd.
It’s finally quiet - No more sirens or banging, no traffic or people, just dead silence. And a smell of acrid burnt chemicals I’ve only experienced once more in my life.
I never thought I’d go through something like this again. In some ways, 9/11 was less scary; at least you can see planes, bombs are invisible and thus ubiquitous. But of course, the sheer number and closeness of 9/11 was way worse. Then again, in 2001 it was missing parents and now it’s missing friends and colleagues. In grade school I watched the news and waited, counting the commuter cars that were left at the station as days passed, noticed classmates that never returned and traced my fingers absentmindedly in ash. Today I frantically texted friends and searched photos for faces. There is still ash. Some things change, others don’t.
Honestly, it’s caught me by surprise that this could happen a few blocks away, in Boston - Our little city, derpy and quiet compared to New York and London. Our little state holiday, our marathon day… I just never thought this would happen here, my second home.
I’m not ready to go through this whole cycle again. The heartbreak, the fear, the silence, confusion, swell, suspicion, accusations, remembrance, memorials, trials, and closure down the long road… But ultimately there will be an ugly scar, one we rarely admit is there. And we will always remember.
Good ol’ fashioned internet rant.
I’m crazy busy this coming semester. I have more on my plate than ever with the initiatives I’m working on at NEU and KPL, plus my own personal impending graduation, job hunt, and potential move.
I also just discovered that a tumor I once had removed has grown back. It was thankfully benign back then, but it was removed for good reason. I also assumed that it wouldn’t come back after removing it?
So of course, I do an internet search about lymphatic tissue that regrows and literally everything about it is related to cancer. Okay, I can deal with that, just gotta find the info I need… Plus the flu [symptoms] I just had, plus the night sweats from the past two weeks, plus the fact that I’ve been nothing but tired? Okay, that makes me pretty uneasy.
I would love to tell my body, “NOT NOW, YOU ASSHOLE. I’M JUST STARTING THE HARDEST SEMESTER OF MY COLLEGE CAREER AND YOU WANT TO WHAT?”
Anyway. I’m moving tomorrow and then starting classes, calling the doctor, holding e-board and chapter meeting, and EMPOWER e-board on Monday.
I can do this […right?]
Going to miss this view.
