Foto: screws
DAY 2 I wake up enlightened. I know the surgery is done well. No pain. I check my phone to see the time, it’s 4 in the morning and I see that Elia left me a message last night: “Happy recovery Jeannette..!!!” With a link to YouTube Louise Hay: The Unconscious Habits Of Your Mind. She has plugged in my earphones, so I listen to Louise’s soothing voice and I sink into sleep again.
I
lift the blanket, watch my feet and I know my left foot is connected straight to my leg, back on it’s right position again and that is such a relief. In my mind I can still see that foot hanging awry and I remember the pain.
And everytime I see that picture in my mind; that oblique foot, the shock, my body stiffens and convulses and I start tapping immediately. I tap on my face and I say: “Let it go. Release and Let It Go. Whatever it is. The shock, the pain. Whatever it means. Let It Go. It’s safe to let it all go. Time To Let It Go. Let It Go …” I put my right foot closer to the left one, so it can cuddle it, hold it, support it. They need each other, they are buddies since all my life. In my mind I send love down from my heart to my legs to my feet. And I imagine golden light, white light, bright light, love, warmth, tenderness and send it all there. I tell my foot I love you. You’re doing great. Please forgive me. I forgive you and I doze away. I send a message to Elia: “Καλημέρα αγαπήμενή μου. I’m feeling good. Happy it’s fixed. I’m so grateful. Found my phone and headset, so I could listen to Louise. Take it easy. I’m fine. Σ’ευχαριστώ πολύ αγγελóυδι μου.”
After breakfast the doctor enters the room and I’m really happy to see his face. I’m amazed how familiair a stranger can become in just some hours, but this stranger is an important one, he’s a legsaver. He takes of his coat, sits down and asks how I feel. He shows me the x-ray photos, what was broken where, the Titanium plate and all the ten screws. Now I can see the foot is straight under the tibia, where it belongs.
That looks so much better! The doctor explains comprehensively what he has done and what is supposed to happen from now on. He gives me a big envelope with the photos, a letter for the doctor at home, prints of my heartbeat during the operation and the status of my blood. I’ve got an anti thrombosis injection in my belly. He gives me a recipe for a stomach protector, because the medicines are junk, blood thinners against blood lumping and two kinds of painkillers.
At this moment it’s all good to me and I totally trust; this guy knows what he is doing, he seems to like his job. Nice! Good! I’m allowed to leave the hospital today, but I’m absolutely forbidden to sustain any weight on my foot. The axial crutches are brought in and the doctor takes them out of the wrapping paper to adjust them to my bodylength. He wishes me a fast recovery, tells me I can always call him and I thank him for his good care and the beautiful job he’s done. He tells me to phone his office today to make an appointment for next Monday, he wants to see me for a check.
A message from Elia: “Καλημέρα strong one…!! Send me a message on what you need more… Your doctor will come and visit you.” I respond: “This morning was like before some years ago: waiking up naked in an unknown bed after being enchanted and touched by a pretty Cypriot. All I remember of last night: there were three handsome Cypriots at least, they were all dressed in blue and now I have stickers on my boops. Very weird party! No hangover. The drugs were better than ever. Please come and take me home.” And she answers: “I see u in a while…”
Home! I’m seriously drugged and happy with every pass through a few meters distance from the couch to the bed, the bathroom, the kitchen. Going to the bathroom I loose balance and I fall again. All I think is NOT ON MY ANKLE so I turn and I fall with my ankle up in the air, but adamant on my left knee. That hurts. However I’m glad I made the move. When I push up myself to sit on the toilet I rub the plaster bandage and notice it’s wet. I can’t control my muscles anymore. Jesus! Anyway,
I have to deal with it for the moment. Accepting, letting go, forgive, ask for help, be patient, be kind to myself and keep it simple. So I call Elia. “I peed on the floor. Can you please help me out here?” Luckily this strong bear is with me. Krav Maga Champion. Pinch those upper arms. Strong shrew she is. She lifts me up and we joke about it. Asking for help is quite nice actually and I admit to myself that it’s been enough. I’ve always been so brave, tough and independent. But not anymore. I’m done with it. I just peed in my pants and I don’t care. Well, I will not make peeing on the floor a habit, but it’s okay right now.
I’ve been falling so often, just like my sister, my cousins, my mother, my grandmother, who joked about it and said: “We are a family of fallen women.” Well, that’s a program. How to become successful with such one? How to stay on your feet with such a motto? How often I laid on the street? And the last years more often, painful, more serious? On the bicycle, racing to the Central Station, until my front wheel stuck into the tram rails and I flew a few meters before I landed on the pavement. And how did I respond?
As fast as I could I was back on my feet and raced on, with big holes in my pantalon and sleeve, left knee, left elbow, hip, bleeding, but just trying to get the train in time instead of going back home to rest and recover. It didn’t even cross my mind to do that. I had to study, to work, to get my daughter at the end of the day. And so I’ve been going down so often. Moving the piano from one spot to the other just by myself, making it glide on wheels and blankets, until it turned over. I shot away, but that left leg was just too late, so all the piano dropped onto my knee. I twisted my ankles, feet, knees so often. At home in the night walking the stairs in the darkness and thinking I’m down already, but I have one more step to go. Bam, diehard on the flagstones. So many times fallen.
And immediately risen. And yes, my left knee is an annoyance since years, damp in that knee, painful, hesitant, shaky. But I don’t want surgery and I can walk with it. Sometimes it bothers, often it irritates, but always continuing. Until now. I’ve always been quite flexible physically, so I bounced easily. Never broke anything, which is a kind of miracle in hindsight, until yesterday. Complicated break at three places.
To be continued … (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
©Jeannette van Uffelen