I have been inside the worst imaginable pain, which means that I know what the worst is and also know how much worse and worser things could get. The imagination is not the limit. It expands to make room for that which is worser, higher, deeper.
The worse pain imaginable is blue and yellow, a little boy with a bouquet of daises. Jonquils.
Spring will come and I will be walking and swimming again, just not working. I am already wishing I had asked to teach in the spring because I don’t think I’ll be any less capable in three weeks than I was before the surgery. I would be able to manage. I do plan on teaching again in the fall but until then, I dread the in-between time. I have to figure out what I was doing before this fall……..gym time, shop time, shoe time, volunteer time. Time. Free time.
I hope to muster up the something needed to muster things up. But as I said, it’s just been two weeks. I am still on pain meds. Time is syrupy. I spend almost all my time in the spare room. PT twice a day. I can kick my foot out a little and it feels like such a triumph. I can get in and out of the car without screaming. And in the morning I’m going to shower.
The days are as small as Barbie slippers and I travel down the hall and rooms of my house like a very old woman with not much left to do. But I am not that woman.
Merry Xmas Eve to Everyone