Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Broken Ankle Day 14 ~ 14 Things

1.  Broken ankle recovery is MUCH more difficult that mastectomy recovery.  I went back to my blog posts to check and yes, I was out ~ slowly and with the requirement of much sleep afterward ~ two weeks after my mastectomy, and preaching a week after that.  Yes, there is a lot of depression and sadness that accompanies the loss of a breast, and the problems inherent in the lingering presence of general anesthesia out of your system are the same in both cases, but after breast surgery you can WALK.
2. I need the entire queen-sized bed in the guestroom for me, my cast, the foam cushion on which I sometimes raise my leg, my tossing and turning, my books and phone and ipad, and my cat.
3.  I crawl upstairs on my knees and come down on my rear.  Once a day for each.
4.  I wash my hair in the kitchen sink, leg resting on a chair, and take sponge baths by sitting on the toilet in the tiny downstairs half-bath.  I do both things as seldom as possible.
5.  Get-well cards and notes are the high point of my day.
6.  I was surprisingly angered by a blog post on the spirituality of accepting one's powerlessness in the face of a friend's need.  POWERLESSNESS?  Excuse me?  If you have two working hands and feet, you are not powerless.  There is stinking laundry all over the house, people run out of toilet paper and food staples, rugs need vacuuming, and litter boxes need cleaned. 
7.  I have been reading blogs about broken ankle recovery.  Yesterday a friend, a secretary at the university, told me that she broke her ankle two years ago and said, "I know you were just like me when the doctor said how long it would take.  I said, 'Oh, no ~ you don't know me!' "  "Yep," I said, "that was me."  "A year," she said.  "A year for everything to feel back to normal."  Holy SHIT.  It's true. 
8. I am so grateful to . . . the head of the religion department, my lectionary study group, the people working on my newest project, and our clerk of session, all of whom are coming to my house for meetings in the next week.  This does require the purchase of a new vacuum cleaner, however, as ours died yesterday, of course.
9.  I look longingly at television commercials in which people are walking though airports and frolicking wherever it is they frolic.  Unlike Mrs. Patmore, I AM a frolicker. 
10.  I am grateful to the friend who is going to take this week's sermon and preach it for me.  We are pretending that I am Paul, writing to one of the first century churches.  Alas, those were in the Mediterranean, and mine is in Cleveland.
11.  I am binge-watching The Sopranos (wearing), reading The Beekeeper's Apprentice (fantastic), watched On Golden Pond (lovely) this afternoon.
12.  I have fallen twice in the house.  I don't usually go around falling down, but this business of getting around with one leg and a walker or a scooter requires somewhat more coordination than I possess.  I am terrified of breaking something else.  I am terrified of the steps in and out of my own house.

13.  This has happened when I was pregnant (twice), when Josh died, when I had breast cancer, and now:  I wish I had a mom.  Wouldn't it be the most amazing thing, to call up your mom and say, "This totally sucks!"  Wouldn't it be the most amazing thing, to have had a mom to share your life?  I don't think about it too often, but sometimes I do.  This is one of those times.  Also, don't moms do things like bring soup?  Irony of ironies, my daughter is sick this week and I can't take soup to her.
14.  Tomorrow I venture to the surgeon's for a second post-op visit.  Staples come out (ouch!) and maybe I will get a walking boot on which I will not be permitted to walk.  But at least the damn cast will come off.

I will try hard not to write 30 things on the 30th day!


  1. For me it was two thyroid surgeries and some other treatment for that cancer in 2013...and I watched every episode of NCIS and told visiting friends that the big favor they could do for me was scoop put the cat box (since the rest of my family seemed determined not to do it, despite being otherwise helpful). So I had to laugh when I saw binge tv watching and cat box scooping here! Disability, even short term, does suck, and it takes say longer than it seems like it should. I have no words of wisdom, just sympathy...

    1. I guess the tv watching comes from the inability to concentrate, Even with the anesthesia out of my system so that my head has cleared, I am finding that all of my body's energy is directed toward healing that bone.

  2. Hey, I actually scooped out a litter box for a neighbor, when she couldn't (and she also lived alone). I became her super scooper. Robin, I'd volunteer to be your mom, but I can't bring chicken soup all the way from Chattanooga. Send me your mailing address, and I'll send a card. My email:
    emerging DOT paradigm AT yahoo DOT com

    I'm also pretty good as a phone partner, if you'd like to talk. Yeah, phone "Mom." I'll send you my phone number in an email. I'm serious.

  3. I wouldn't object to reading 30 things, if only because your perspective is always so thought-provoking. This particularly reminded me how thankful I was to have my mother around when I was bed-ridden, mute and catatonic. When I recovered enough to shower and talk I binge-watched House of Cards (new season February 14th!), which you might enjoy. It's not a meditation on loneliness and dysfunction like The Sopranos, but it sure is fun and beautifully acted. Plato's dialogues are good too, especially Laches.

    Here's hoping someone can do your laundry---I'd volunteer, if I were closer! Get all the rest you need.

    1. I binge-watched the first season of House of Cards; guess I'll do it again.

  4. Yeah, it really sucks, big time!!! And yes, a Mom would be a most loving and wonderful presence at times like this. I miss my Mom too. She knew how to make me feel better.
    I binged on watching the summer Olympics - but it was an inspiration to me to do my exercises!
    It is a good time for catching up on your reading.
    Make phone calls to parishioners to check in on them. Perhaps the ones you would have visited.
    I also hosted meetings at my home which parishioners were ok with.
    Honor your healing and this time out, even when unbidden.
    Know there are prayers being prayed for your healing, and patience.

    1. Yep, check on all of the above - including a parishioner who just broker her foot! SHE gets to walk, though,

  5. I am praying for you too. This whole thing is a lot to bear, and impacts so many other things and people--especially when one is as involved and busy as you. So very sorry I cannot bring you soup. And just a side note so you don't get too melancholy, I am your age and my mother is 83, and she brings soup to no one, and in fact people bring food to her. I think it' s only us middle-aged moms who bring food. But I am still sorry your mom was unable to be there for you now or in her middle years. It would have been very nice for you to be pampered a bit along the way.

    1. I know, I know . . . my mom would be 80 . . . but soup at some point in life would've been nice, huh?

  6. Robin, I pray that your healing will be swift, painless and sure, and that you will be given some joy each day.