Attempting to Keep On Keepin' On

I can’t really move my left leg right now. Not like… permanently or anything, but I am currently sitting on my bed unable to move. I skipped class today because I could not physically move myself to get there and I feel really guilty about it, but also I feel guilty for feeling guilty because I can’t move my leg.

Six days ago I had knee surgery. I had torn my meniscus and my ACL over the summer, and the crutch life and constant tiredness and inability to function like a real human being that came from those months of crippileness had worn me down, and the surgical option seemed like the way to go. So I did it.

I spent almost a week at home on the couch at returned to campus Sunday morning ready to face the world. I could walk places! I could do things and meet people and explore all the places I hadn’t seen yet due to my inability to get around like a functional human being! Except I can’t move my leg.

It’s very possible I tried to do too much too soon. I ditched the crutches and walked everywhere on my first day back, and now the consequences are biting me in the butt. Getting to class yesterday was hard… getting back from class yesterday was torture. As disabilities services would like me to remember, this is a “small campus.” But it sure doesn’t feel small as I am slowly and pathetically dragging myself from one end of it to another.

I feel guilty. Like I’m not trying hard enough or fighting valiantly or doing whatever thing the stoic injured person is supposed to do to earn respect. I’m sitting, meekly, on my bed, taking a lot of advil, reading, and trying to convince myself that it’s going to be ok that I miss class- because honestly, there isn’t really another option.

I’m (clearly!) not an expert in knee surgery. This might just be what the healing process is like. Maybe I’m just a whimp, and everyone else is able to fight through the amount of pain that I’m feeling. I don’t know. I don’t know if I would feel better if I did know.

These three literal scars are the only outward proof of all the physical
pain i'm going through. It doesn't seem like much, but it sure
feels like it.
But it’s also pretty clear that I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. I can’t just sit here forever. If I wait till the pain dies down, am I going to be waiting too long? I’m scared, and I’m unsure, and I don’t know what my next step is, or even (physically and emotionally) when I’m going to feel comfortable taking another step.

I’m trying to keep on keepin' on. 

Share this:


    Blogger Comment


Post a Comment