By Christine Price
Columnist
Amidst all the stress, anxiety, craziness and bad news, my goal is to spotlight and share the good news in our community.
Wham bam! Last week I was volunteering, attending meetings, running errands and lunching with friends. This week my greatest accomplishment is bumping down the stairs on my backside!
Last week, as I was getting into a friend’s car, my foot found a pothole I never saw coming. The pothole won. I ended up with a broken foot and a non-weight-bearing cast that reaches nearly to my knee.
Then came one of life’s questions I never expected: “What color cast would you like?” The technician proudly displayed a ring full of color samples and suggested a red, white and blue stars and stripes pattern in honor of America’s 250th Birthday. It sounded patriotic at the time. About five minutes later, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake. I’ll be wearing this thing long after the celebration is over, and now every outfit must coordinate with Old Glory.
Crutches were killing my wrists, so I now proudly belong to a two-scooter household – one upstairs and one downstairs. I feel like one of those wealthy, affluent people. My scooter has become my best friend, my chauffeur and my ticket to visiting another room. I’ve even mastered navigating tight corners and backing up.
Every trip now requires the planning of a military operation. “Do I really need another cup of coffee badly enough to justify the mission?” Once I reach the kitchen, I’d better remember everything I need because one forgotten item can turn a simple trip into a 20-minute ordeal.
The funny thing about being told not to put weight on your foot is discovering how many everyday tasks not only require two legs, but also two hands. I was instructed not to carry anything while using my scooter, but necessity – and boredom – are powerful motivators.
I’ve mastered transporting coffee back to what I now call “Command Central,” the chair surrounded by my phone, computer, water, notebook and anything else I might need. I’ve even figured out how to balance a basket of folded laundry on the handlebars. It’s a skill I never expected to add to my resume.
I am very fortunate to have wonderful family and friends who are trying to pull me out of this deep, dark funk. They tell me to “just rest,” “enjoy the downtime,” “watch some movies.” I’m discovering that doing nothing is a lot harder than it sounds.
But I am slowly learning that healing takes patience – a virtue I’ve apparently never possessed. I’ve also been reminded how blessed I am. Friends and family have brought meals, flowers, texts, phone calls and encouragement. They’ve lifted my spirits and reminded me that this is only temporary.
I still feel like a prisoner in my own home. But thanks to the people around me, it’s beginning to feel a little less like solitary confinement.
I have several weeks to go before this cast comes off. Until then, Old Glory and I will be making a fashion statement together.
When you see good news, and you will, please send it to cpriceconcord@aol.com. Include your name, phone number, city of residence and email address.
