Gosh it is a glorious time of the year. Everything is fresh; bursting with colour and thriving. Last week I looked across the road and marvelled at the perfectly spaced rows of baby corn sprouts. Today the field is all blending together into one bright mat of endless green. They are growing so fast.
I think I’m thriving too. I had some excellent news yesterday. My orthopaedic surgeon declared my latest x-rays look great. I’m cleared to proceed without any restrictions.
It has been a long haul. Three months since I was weight bearing after surgery on a broken leg. I have spent everyday, all day just sitting on my wide behind. I’ve watched a ton of TV. During this time my thigh muscles have dissolved into bean bags. By the way, it’s true what they say. Muscles do weigh more than fat. I weigh five pounds less today than I did last February 19th when I broke my fibula plateau. Crazy isn’t it?
In an effort to make myself get up and move a bit more I returned my rented wheelchair several days ago. Since then my preferred mode of transportation has been a walker. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
On May 7th my surgeon told me I could begin to bear 15% of my total weight on to my bad leg and further that amount by an additional 10% each week. Did you understand that? Say what? ?? How do you know how many pounds pressure you apply to a leg? I did my best. As long as there was no pain I continued to move about and gradually use that leg. Four weeks later I figured that I had increased the weigh bearing on my bad leg to almost 50%. I was getting there. Still shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
This week when I returned to my surgeon he told me I was good to go. I drove directly from the hospital to my physiotherapist. I didn’t know how to proceed.
What an amazing hour. I shuffled in using crutches and strolled out with just one crutch casually under my arm, just there for balance. It was like a scene from a movie as I stood up and tossed away my crutch. We practiced using a cane. I attempted to climb up a small step. No problem. Re-learning to climb down a small step took some practice. I lacked confidence. My brain had trouble sending a signal to my knee to bend when climbing down. My lower leg felt like an artificial prosthesis. Good leg goes up. Bad leg goes down. That is the secret to climbing stairs. Did you know that?
I’m thrilled. Everything is falling into place and achievable again. I’ve moved my clothes back upstairs. Last night I slept with Warren in my own bed. For the first time in three months we went out to a play and I strolled down the sidewalk. (with one crutch under my arm for balance). Today I pulled a few weeds from my garden and trimmed the rhubarb. No problem. I’m stiff and a bit wobbly but I feel no pain. Good to go.
Look at those spring flowers. Listen to those birds. Life is really good.