DAY 77 Every morning at awakening there’s that moment, where I move myself, feel and think: “Oh yes, that leg.” That stiff leg. Not that painful anymore, but that nasty uncomfortable feeling which I don’t get used to. In the night I’ve forgotten it all, happily, but when I wake up there is the constraint of the body. I try my best and give a twist to my thoughts: three weeks ago I wasn’t able to stand, had a cast around it, had to lay on my back. And 77 days ago my foot was a wound, with broken bones, torn ligaments and a lot of pain. Now only my leg is stiff and painful, but as good as whole. The bone is beautiful! The skin is gorgeous. The scarfs on both sides are thin lines, almost the same colour as the rest of the skin. I can turn on both sides, don’t need extra pillows anymore and I can even lay on my belly, sometimes.
Laying in bed I move my feet. Stretching backwards and curving toes, than bending up front and curling up. Not a nice feeling, but nothing compared to the pain at March 2. I succeed much more in doing this then just after the cast was taken off. I let my right foot join in, flexible and painless. I can be frustrated by thinking how easy and flexible it was, but I choose to admire my left foot for the beautiful recovery and progress.
With a crutch I waggel to the bathroom. It asks courage to stand on it again. And I say loudly to myself: “You can stand on it.” That’s what the fysiotherapist also says, but I tend to forget it, I tend to spare it when it hurts, but now I can stand on it. Going towards the pain is always better than pulling away from it. Avoiding never solves anything, it only delays and than you’re carrying it with you for longer. I can do it and I do it.
Showering while I’m standing is nice. I switch off the warm tap and leave my left leg under the cold shower until I’ve dried the rest of me. Sitting on a stool I dry my feet and walk back to my bedroom. It feels like summer so I put on my blue flower dress, bought in Honolulu. After my breakfast with Cypriot coffee I go out. Flip, my cat, comes with me.
I walk very consiously, try to lean on the crutches as less as possible and as much as possible on my feet, rolling of my feet at every step. I watch and feel how I do that with my right foot. I never pay attention to this. What actually is normal walking, how does it work? If you can do something and you do it naturally you don’t pay attention to it anymore. I’m on the road for about 45 minutes and I walk almost one kilometer. Meanwhile I check at the newborn in the neighbourhood; gooses, coots, lambs.
Every morning I meet at least one stranger on the go, who asks me if I can manage and what has happened to me. I tell them I broke my ankle and that last month I wasn’t able to walk at all and now I’m walking outside. And that I’m very happy about that and so it’s going a little better every day. Yes, it hurts. Or someone walks by, doesn’t ask for details, but wishes me the best. People smile friendly at me or nodd at me engouraging. What a beautiful neighbourhood I live in with such kind people.
I feel vulnerable, but because of all these kind people around me I feel protected when making my first fragile steps. I experience compassion and encouragement. And I focus on my progression and on how good it feels to walk here so calm and consciously. To have the time and to take the time. And to be totally in the here and now.
It is only 11 in the morning. I’m writing my blog, while I’m sitting with both bare feet in the sun. For Mothersday I got lavander oil and now I’m going to massage my feet with it and than just lay in the sun for awhile. Here and now. Don’t worry. Be happy.
To be continued … (Part of my 100 days of healing tour)
© Jeannette van Uffelen