And here is the companion piece.  Surgery for a broken leg, and being non-weight bearing for eleven weeks, during a pandemic…probably has some emotional highs and lows, right?

Highs

Magic of GoogleDocs

A couple years ago, I sprained my ankle (yes, the left one) while surrounded by fifteen wonderful people on retreat, who all kept asking how they could help me.  This caused me to dabble in reflection of why I had been holding so fiercely to being self-sufficient, and why I equated asking for help with imposing an inconvenience or disruption to someone’s world.  I had a few days of trying different ways to answer “how can I help you?” and perhaps the main take-away was that knowing what would help isn’t quickly intuitive but takes some mindfulness.

So if that was a workshop in accepting help, this broken leg thing has enrolled me in a master class.  No way around needing help, and for an extended period of time.  While previous forms of ‘inconvenience’ of interrupting hectic schedules of event filled days weren’t an issue during covid restrictions, the new ‘inconvenience’ of interrupting personal health choices during a pandemic bothered me.  But it was something I’d just have to talk through with each friend.

Sometimes friends had suggestions of what might help (ex. have a walker magically appear), but mostly it was genuine yet open offers.  I was foggy with painkillers and unsettled, but I knew that it was right that it was up to me to identify what I needed.  I came up with two primary requests:

• Food – I knew that I could quickly slide into just eating apples, raisins, tomatoes, hummus, corn chips, cheddar cheese, and crackers (and chocolate) as a no-thinking easy button.  But I also knew that my body was working hard on a reconstruction project and needed some energy to do it.  So the first ask was to coordinate at least one hot meal a day.
• Check-ins – I knew that I could go for days without talking with someone, because I’ve certainly done it before – caught up in a project or taking a few days off grid.  But I didn’t know in this case, if I would recognize when to reach out.  So the second ask was to coordinate a conversation every evening.  Sometimes it coincided with a meal, and sometimes a remote friend would video call me.

With a simple little Google Doc system, and some amazing friends, these two asks were fully handled – definitely qualifies as a high!

Once I settled into discerning my needs, asks varied.  They included rides to/from the hospital, changing sheets, and dropping off groceries and puzzles.  I had help washing the surgical marker off my foot when I couldn’t yet reach it, and help with scheduling a flu shot (which turned out to be less about scheduling and more of a ‘how about right now?’ scenario.)  Other asks have included buying replacement light bulbs and installing them in the ceiling can lights, assembling a new office chair (with wheels), and multiple aspects of keeping my apartment clean.  An extended project was the purchase of a Christmas tree, its assembly, bringing boxes of ornaments down from the top shelf, and decorating the tree (which looks great!)  And not to forget – the aforementioned library DVD return and haircut project.

During these times when every day feels like the last, sometimes I have provided an interesting diversion.  The roles of who is helping who are often blurred.

Huge gratitude to everyone who has added even just a little to the supportive and healing environment around me!!

Magic of Physiotherapy

I fully trusted the orthopedist in the emergency room when he said that the surgical solution is a standard thing, but I really had no frame of reference for what the surgery would involve (apparently a plate and seven screws) or what the recovery would involve.  He “couldn’t say” as different surgeons may approach it slightly differently and each person and injury is unique.  And the doctors during the follow-ups were excellent in answering my immediate questions but similarly became non-committal and vague about future milestones. 

So starting physiotherapy was like a burst of sunshine through the curtains.  Here was a guide, ready to join me on my path to recovery, and a guide with impressive knowledge, enthusiasm, and a plan.  (Merci Pierre-Luc!) I hadn’t realized how much I’d felt adrift until I suddenly wasn’t anymore.

After weeks of wondering what is normal for pace of swelling to dissipate or range of motion to return, here was someone confirming that I was healing really well, and perhaps more notably, was equally excited about it.  Going forward I have ways to mark my progress, and I have a witness to my progress who is as committed to my recovery as I am.  It’s pretty awesome.  While I don’t wish anyone harm, I am a huge fan of PT for everyone who needs it.

I have also realized that having given up all sources of tactile energy (hugs, handshakes, high fives) for more than eight months, some simple pressure to coax dormant and strained leg muscles is doubly therapeutic.  And, after years of including stim machines in clients’ equipment budgets and training room layouts, I actually got to experience one in action – super cool! 

Lows

The first time I wrote a Highs and Lows piece, it was for my own sense of ‘balanced reporting’.  It is fun to write stories about adventures and discoveries, and it feels good to share them.  But life isn’t about just our best Instagram photos.  In case I’ve somehow given the impression that these eleven weeks have been entirely smooth, here are a couple of ‘Lows’:

The “I want to throw this soup can across the room but I can’t spare the energy” Moment

I was slumped on the walker, having used what felt like my last ounce of energy rolling to the kitchen.  I got frustrated making soup.  And by ‘making’, I mean heating soup from a can, in the microwave.  It turned out to be condensed soup, and it was a struggle to add a can of water to the bowl.  Yikes.  I did feel better after eating it, which was the initial motivation.  I ate it still sitting on the walker in the kitchen.  I didn’t really like it, and it was lukewarm (I wasn’t going to repeat the physical exercise of accessing the microwave again), but I was determined to consume it, hoping to break the cycle* of needing energy just to get the food that would give me energy. 

That soup hasn’t been the only “It’s great because it’s in front of me, not because it tastes good” meal. My eating priorities used to be: knowing all of the ingredients, and being mindful of sugars. My new priorities are: ease and convenience.  I’ve had to acquaint myself with the frozen prepared foods section of the online grocery store.  These have been ‘fine’, and while I’m definitely not a chef, they do make me wish I had the stamina to be upright to prepare, chop, and cook (and cleanup) something better.  I’ve also reacquainted myself with breads – toasted cinnamon raisin bagels with butter, chocolate croissants, and apple turnovers in particular.  While I have no regrets opening my boundaries on comfort foods when clearly in need of comfort, I know that they contribute to the quick drops in energy that catch me off guard sometimes.  But nothing another cup of tea and some chocolate can’t fix, right?

The “Middle of the Night, Can’t Sleep, Why Is This Happening to Me?” Moments

For many days I did little besides basic hygiene, eating, and hydrating, when I otherwise just wanted to sleep and encourage time to pass.  But when your leg feels like an immovable log elevated on a pillow, even sleep is hard to accomplish.  It’s in the poetic middle of the night when the heavy sighs, punching the pillow, and a few swear words came out (in both official languages for greatest impact.)  It’s in the morning when I could use journaling as another release.  I started a list of everything that was crappy, and any and every idea was honoured in writing.  It’s a brutal list. And at the time, it was longer than the companion lists of what was good and what possibilities were opened.  That has progressively changed, but I can confirm that I’ve definitely had my WTF moments through all this! 

Still, I try to remember that “breaking your leg was a stupid thing to do”, even when I say it to myself, is actually just another form of ‘I love and care about you.’

* I do have far more consistent and reliable energy levels now.  The shift happened not coincidentally around the time I started sleeping better.  I also haven’t had condensed soup again.