Surrender, Dorothy

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Up to Me

I went to see my doctors last Thursday. I was five weeksish post-surgery.

The resident is more conservative. He came in and said to keep all weight off until six weeks post-surgery, then take 2-3 weeks to transition to full weight-bearing with the boot. He left. I cried. I am so tired of crutches.

Then the surgeon came in. He said the X-ray looked fine, transition to full weight-bearing within a week, lose the boot after that, get some PT, come back in five weeks.

In other words, he left it up to me. I love you, Dr. Surgeon.

My husband is back to traveling for work 75%, so leaving it up to me gets very real very fast. Walking (or crutching) out of the doctor's office last week, I felt something I haven't felt since December: agency.

I'm ready to make my own decisions.

This broken leg has made me into a teenager again in all the worst ways. I can't choose when I leave the house. I have to ask someone to drive me somewhere. I can't go for a run or walk.

I've found myself retreating to headphones and NIN.

To have my current state of recovery in my own hands feels surreal. I decide when to stop using the crutches. When to transition to shoes. When to start physical therapy. These are important decisions if I want to run again, but to not feel infantilized is huge.

Today I put about 50-70% weight on my right foot while using one crutch and cleaning my house. My ankle is sore but fine.

My psyche is better than ever.

I feel like an adult again.

I can't stress enough how important that feels.

Up to Me