Today is the one year anniversary of my "little incident." I am speaking of course of my slippage on a tiny patch of ice and the tearing of my quadriceps tendon. My dogs played a big role but I don't harbor any malice, except that I've renamed them Extra Stupid and Beyond Extra Stupid. They each answer to both, which is due in large part to me feeding them cookies when I say it.
When I asked my surgeon, the terrific Damien Billow from the Cleveland Clinic, when I would be normal again, he resisted the obvious joke and said it would be a year from the surgery, which was actually in May. I was pretty pissed at him for being so pessimistic. Did he not realize I'm an exceptional healer? Did he not know I needed it to be faster than that?
It turns out he was right and probably undershot it a tad. I won't be 100% by May 1, and that's partly due to me being a bigger than the average person and the leg having even further to go to be able to do its job. I'd say it may be more than 90%, which a few months ago seemed unreachable.
I missed a lot of stuff. My daughter's engagement party, an entire season of concerts in 3 bands, our community garden, and the ability to go just about anywhere. But the one thing I did was work hard enough to be able to walk my daughter down the aisle in Toronto and dance with her at the reception. I had to skip the hora but I'll get over it.
I've had to make a career change, which is still in progress,
I've learned to depend on others. And to be patient with people who have trouble walking. And that all handicap access is not created equal.
And I've learned that the love and support of the people I love is pretty much everything.
Tomorrow begins the year after Hell Year. We'll call it Great Year. The fun starts right now.
