Most of the time I think I am pretty okay with how I healed after my bicycling accident. I try to feel fortunate that I didn't lose my leg or die of a massive infection in the hospital. I can walk, bike, climb steps (albeit with help from the railing most of the time), and I don't have a permanent limp. However, I think I had convinced myself that the doctor was wrong when he told me I should never, ever again run, hop, skip, jump, do aerobics, or even climb steep hills. I figured, you know, after a year or so I'd be able to do aerobics again if I really wanted to. Okay, I shouldn't, but I'd be ABLE to. I often came up with scenarios in my head...a child molester is trying to drag my child into a car, a psycho is stalking me in the dark when I'm walking the dog. my dd runs into the road in front of a bus....in those situations, SURELY I'd be able to run and save myself or my loved one. Well...no. Not so much. It's been 18 months since I stopped using a cane and I can't do any of it. They will find my body in the woods because I could only quickly walk away from the stalking psycho.
C and I were out walking the dog and the sunshine was gorgeous, the air was warm, and I was happy. It was the kind of day that makes you feel like skipping. I asked C, "Can you skip?" and she couldn't. She didn't quite know what skipping was and instead was galloping down the road. I said, "Like this" -- and skipped. And almost fell down when my knee buckled. Wow -- I thought it was a fluke and tried again. And almost fell on my face again. I feel so disappointed. I know in the grand scheme of things, it's idiotic for me to feel so devastated over this. I feel deeply mournful that I will never be quite whole again. I'm embarrassed about my feelings, but still sad. Of course, I immediately blamed myself...if I weighed 40 lbs less, maybe I could still skip.