I haven’t posted for a while and life has certainly intervened. Most of it has not been particularly note-worthy, but this was such a weird event, I thought I’d share. For those of you not in my “backyard,” or family ,you may not know I broke my ankle – three fractures and a dislocation requiring 29 pieces of hardware to pull it back together again. Having never broken a bone in my life, and having enjoyed an existence characterized by excellent health and independence, this was a glimpse into my own personal hell. But mostly, it’s offered a deep dive into a new awareness of how life can change in an instant, an appreciation of community, and the realization that I have taken for granted how much effort goes into performing the most basic of daily activities when the body is not operating on all cylinders – shall we say on both feet.
I have renewed sympathy for Humpty Dumpty, and huge appreciation for the fact that there was an ankle specialist in the practice that gave me a new hip two years ago.
It started out innocently enough…
I’d thought with the end of the proceeding event of a lumpectomy and five weeks of very targeted radiation therapy for a fairly benign form of breast cancer, I was over the hump. So off on a lovely family trip to the coast, as we say here. If I’d gone to the coast in Texas, Louisiana, Florida – or any number of other places I’ve lived, we’d say we went to the beach. I think on the Atlantic side, it’s called going to the shore. Here it’s going to the coast.
Within half an hour of arrival, we set off on a trail that took us over the dunes and that’s where the mischief started – mischief that ended up putting me totally out of commission for two months. No walking. No driving. No nuthin’. I’m just beginning to walk again, and feel like a clumsy, oversized toddler. This, too, is humbling.
But… I’m getting ahead of myself…
As luck would have it, after a nauseating couple of hours round-trip in the back seat of the car, and a few hours in the ER, I returned with what Colton, my grandson, called a huge bandaid. Splinted and wrapped in enough layers to keep it safe in an atomic blast, it remained thus until surgery a week later. The next morning, a balloon-tire wheelchair was commandeered from the Visitors’ Bureau and these two hunky sons, got me on the beach.
Killin’ Time
During the endless down-time, someone suggested I fill my time with poetry. So – with Dr. Suess as my muse – I did. Here’s a sample. Please don’t throw tomatoes at me. Turns out I wrote it without realizing the form actually has a name: Narrative Poetry! Who knew. Well – now you do, too.
Have a chuckle – and know that this is just what transpired!
Once Upon a Sand Dune
Once upon a sand-dune slope The kids below were waiting. The sea ahead, its spume afloat The dune, its secret waiting. One way down was straight and steep, The other mildly sloping. She stood upon the mighty heap, And did her best at coping. Don't be a weenie, said she to self, Never one for slopes. Just slide on down that sandy shelf! She screwed up all her hopes. She scanned the dune for flatter ground, But none was there in view. How hard could it be - she looked around Then planted her stance askew. And then it happened, left foot down, The slide, it did unfold... The uphill foot did twist around, And thus began the roll! Legs and arms akimbo, with Colton down below... The two began to roll as one Wound up like a bow. Laughter all around was heard. As a pratfall it was perfect! But then there was a cracking sound, Kim's the one that heard it! Her ankle was a lovely hue And move it she could not. Purple, red, and slightly blue - Move it she WOULD not! How to get her off the beach! Discussions did ensue. Airlift, coach, or ambulance? Were options to review.
The cavalry came on wheels of four - Two firemen, they were conjured. How best to get her through the door Of the chariot, just yonder? They settled upon the life-and-hop and jostled her to the jeep. Th ride to town was bumpety-bump, The language was bleepety-bleep. Off the beach the bumbled, Bouncing all the way. And to the house they rumbled, Where a chairlift saved the day. Three big cracks and dislocation - The ankle was a mess! Colton noticed the big band-aid-tion And said it was the best! But wait! The drama is not finished! Once at home, she kept it up. Her balance much diminished... she fell and landed on her butt- Then broke her hand to finish. The surgeons, they did fix their dates. Urgent, it was hailed. Then COVID reared its ugly face. What fuckery doth prevail! Still, we had the best of times, Played games and ate a pile. Found a balloon-tire wheelchair And rolled to the beach in style The laughs we had were just sublime! I wouldn't change a thing. And though I have run out of rhyme, I can't wait to go again.
Almost without exception, my mystical friends have asked, “Why do you think this happened?” And while I can give a million different possible symbolic reasons – or admit that stuff just happens – I can say that being totally dependent on others for the most basic needs, is humbling. It’s also an opportunity to ask for help (not an easy task for a stubbornly independent woman), receive help with grace, gratitude, and humor and enjoy (yes, enjoy) the down time to visit, form deeper friendships, explore new aspects of self, and just develop a greater appreciation for basic freedoms like driving, walking to the bathroom, making your own coffee, and getting outside.
So once again, here’s to celebrating good health, mobility, freedom in all its forms, and doing so in deep gratitude.