Full of Ruptures and Full of Gratitude...

September 7, 2017

Oh what a difference three weeks make. When last I word-spewed, I knew not the fate of me and my Greek Mythologically-Inspired wounds. Now I do! About a week ago, I had both of my miraculous Achilles tendons up and fixed by slicing open the back of my ankles and havin' my humpty-dumpty breakages sewn back together again. The stats suggest this was the best way to go, based on my age (still relatively young), activity level (I do some stuff), and success rate of healing and infrequency of re-rupture. So now, here I lie (and sometimes sit), experiencing life as a temporary paraplegic. Let me repeat those two words: "Temporary" and "Paraplegic". The first word has me overwhelmed with gratitude, because it precedes the second word. The second word by itself is tragic and sad. But I can decidedly state that after a week in a wheelchair and all the day-to-day disabled fixins, I will forever be changed. For those souls who inhabit bodies that, due to injuries much more severe than my own, will exist in such physical frameworks the remainder of their lives (barring medical advances that I imagine always offer shreds of hope), I offer up the most heartfelt respect and admiration. For this life on wheels, so much closer to the ground, affects everything and requires a level of fortitude that I suspect I could never have were it permanent. It is not only a blow to the body, but a blow to one's sense of self that becomes radically altered. -Getting from the chair to the toilet. -Getting from the chair to the bath. -Getting from the bed to the chair. -Pullin' up your big-boy pants when you can't use your feet. -Getting stuck on the way from point A to point B because your wheels don't really roll through gravel. -Trying to take a "stroll" (as it were) around the neighborhood with your ma (who, in truest mom form, has come to my rescue while I recuperate), only to realize that sidewalks aren't necessarily retrofit for wheelchairs, as your ma tries to keep you from rolling into the street when you come to a driveway with particularly steep curbs... All this and SO MUCH MORE! The sense of 'normalcy' that we who walk take for granted every single day, is entirely shattered with life in a rolling chair. And yet, I myself am so blessed as to only be spoon-fed a mere taste of such a life. May it be that I never take walking for granted again and all that it makes easier in this life. And may it be that I will forever see those who are forced to roll through this life with a much lower eye level as some of this world's bravest beings.

 

And might I add... I have had such an outpouring of love, affection, and support from so many people since this happened. I hardly feel deserving of such thoughtfulness, yet I pray that it is perhaps in response to any/all kindness I've tried to express to beings in need over the years. We are all each others' keepers, for we all suffer. It is through the very act of connection with that common humanity that will save us in this life, if anything will. I am so very grateful to you all...

 

 

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