|I'm walking! |
Take that, PPA!
This summer wasn't easy. It's been months since I've viewed my life with such clarity and optimism. But in that moment, navigating the city on foot, standing there in my new hiking shoes, I can't help but agree with him.
Yo Gabba Gabba plays nonstop on the T.V., and there are endless choruses of Ring Around the Rosie in the living room.
Baby Brennan watches his "big" cousins, wide-eyed.
It's a quick walk, but with toddlers and dogs, our pace is more like shepherding sheep.
In her 2-year-old ragtag way, Riley Cate tells us when she's had enough. I'm glad. I'm ready to turn back, too.
I drag myself out for a hike with Mark, Andy, Nina, and Jack. Sunshine spreads through the trees, and the Wissahickon air is a fresh change of pace.
|I get by with a little help|
from my... brothers :)
|Nina and I guide |
across the dreaded pipeline!
Dr. J stands beside my gurney. Here we are again. In pre-op.
I’m in a blue gown, covered with layers of heated blankets. I have one of those sterile shower cap things on my head. You’d think by the 15th time, this would all be routine. But I'm jumpy and close to tears.
As we come through the doorway, the OR is bright and cold. And much smaller than I remember.
Stitched up, I can barely bend over, so I teach Mom to work the pull-bag, tugging gently right then left. Later, I teach nurse Sarah. As a morale-booster, Prosthetist Tim stops by for a visit.
Legs unsteady, I inch slowly down the hallway, a pillow clutched to my abs. It feels like I'm walking on stilts. It feels like my insides are going to fall out.
One day after school, Chase and Shawn come by with belated birthday treats. I missed our "night out," but we'll have another one. My room fills up with flowers, balloons, and cheer. I absorb the energy.
One slow afternoon, Mom takes me out to Barnes and Noble. I try to ignore the tugging in my abs, the fatigue that weighs me down, and the wiggling in my very loose prosthesis.
I browse through fiction, focusing on each title and cover. Customers walk by me. To them, I look no different than anyone else.
They don't know how TORN APART I am on the inside.
I wonder what the 700's have in store. I want to pick up where I left off -- To get back to work. To search for a new place to live.
To remember EVERY DAY how lucky I am to be alive.