Update from Hop-along Coach-idy

This morning, I walked for 15 minutes, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, in our new kitchen. The new kitchen is beautiful. So is the feeling of continuous movement, albeit with the assistance of crutches.

This current life challenge has made me appreciate how much I value the ability to move forward in an unimpeded fashion. As I have told a lot of loved ones who have stopped by the house, emailed, called, texted, etc., over the past week and a half since the surgery, normally I view myself as a grateful person. I thrive in the routines of daily life, and I crave no more than that. My bar for satisfaction is very low. I find joy in the simple, mundane things in life: Driving my daughter to school early in the morning so she can practice her violin; going to the deli to get a gallon of milk; being the car-pool dad for my kids’ various activities; bringing the garbage out to the curb; hauling stuff down to the basement; carrying loads of laundry up and down the stairs. It’s all good stuff to me. I never complain, and always enjoy doing it. So, yeah. I didn’t need this current setback to reset my perspective. I didn’t need it. But, like it or not, I get it now. So now, while I impatiently and patiently pray for healing to occur, my little victories have changed. A 15-minute peg-leg through the kitchen will have to do for now. Maybe I’ll double later.

I go to the doctor tomorrow, so he can take out the six staples in my leg. I want answers. Of course, he is a doctor; he is human. He will give me answers; maybe he will roll his eyes at my lengthy list of questions. The answers may or may not be what I want to hear. I think most doctors know the dirty little secret of their profession. The body is an amazing thing. It heals. There are things they can do to intervene, such as inserting screws in places or prescribing medicines or suggesting more therapy. But the body will heal as the body heals. They are there to guide their patients, but ultimately they are high-priced, white-coat wearing witnesses to the process as it unfolds.

Here’s what I want to know. I want to know what type of healing is going on, and at what rate. Bone vs. soft tissue. I tell my athletes all the time that bone heals fully and completely, even better than soft tissue. Soft tissue takes longer and the residual effects can last much, much longer. I want to know where I’m at. I want to know what I’ve got left. I want to know what to expect. I want to formulate a plan, physically and mentally, moving forward. Geez, aren’t I the demanding one? For someone who normally wants very little out of life, now I want a lot!

Mostly, I want the freedom to ambulate where I want and when I want. Notice I haven’t even mentioned jogging or running. Someday, maybe. Right now, I’ll take going the deli to get a gallon of milk, or bringing a load of laundry up stairs. Probably many weeks away for both of those simple tasks. But right now, I cannot even carry a small cup of coffee in my hand (yeah, I’m back to one cup a day, what's it to ya!) while trying to move about on crutches. I need help with so many little things right now. I’ll take the little things back, and worry about the big stuff later, thank you very much.

My son James calls me a pirate, because of the peg-leg crutching sound around the house and in the driveway; my wife Heidi supports me in every way (and in ways even she doesn’t fully grasp, talk about grateful … I feel that every minute with her), but she reminds me gently that I am a slow healer. It’s Easter Sunday, a day to rejoice. We just got back from Mass. Getting around and getting out of the house feels good. But it’s a chore with crutches. The pain is still there. I lay awake at night worried about that, worried that something is not healing correctly, worrying about why it’s taking so damn long to be out of pain; pain has been my constant companion for a month now, in some form. Shouldn’t there be more improvement by now? Shouldn’t there? Maybe the doctor will give me some answers. Maybe. In the meantime, I will peg-leg around, Hop-along Coach-idy, and see what each day brings.