Funny Bone, Weepy Bone

Monday, January 28, 2013

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Do you ever wonder why they call the funny bone funny?  Maybe it's less about laughing when you accidentally hit the bone and more about the types of thoughts that surround you when you break it.  If this were the tradition of bone naming--

I hereby declare the 5th metatarsal the weepy bone.

In the course of three hours, I have thought about every person I've ever cared about . . . and really missed them.  All of them. 

I need some outward focus.  How about volunteer organizations that take partially-limber volunteers?

Hug me.  Hug you.  Miss you.

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Jones Fracture a.k.a. Break-down

Saturday, January 26, 2013

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So, I went back to the doctor after two weeks nursing the broken foot.  The doctor said my foot shouldn't be as swollen as it was at the two-week mark.  It looks like I'm off to the orthapedic surgeon for a consult.  Errrump.

There are a few positives I can see about this situation:

1.  Not too long ago, I was wondering about the difference between people in dire health situations who have joy and those who become bitter.  Now, I feel even more admiration for those who have joy.  My situation isn't even extreme, but I can see how easy it would be to get depressed when there are setbacks and your hope for recovery is so high.

2.  I have greater understanding for my students with learning disabilities.  There are things--like cooking dinner, putting up bulletin boards, carrying copies down the hallway, proctoring a test--that I CAN do, but it may take me longer, or I may have to try a new way of doing it.  It takes some "doing" to let go of the old-and-easy-thoughtless-way-I've-been-doing-things-forever and come up with and embrace a new-and-strange-do-I-really-need-this way.

3.  I have greater compassion and understanding for my students and all people on crutches.  If someone I know winds up needing crutches, I'll know how to help them better.

I'm trying to stay focused on these things and remember that this time is so short compared to the months and years of my life and that this is the first bone I've ever broken.  I should be thankful, no?

But then there's the . . .

Things I Miss

1.  Being able to cook for people and carry warm trays of cookies/enchiladas and crocks of soup down my apartment stairs and through the halls of school.

2.  Being able to carry around a warm cup of coffee.

3.  Being able to do my job at 100%:  walk among the rows of students, create displays, carry supplies, etc.

4.  Being able to exercise the way I want.  Today is the kind of day that bikers love.  I passed a group of 20 today, all decked out in their leather and beards.  Today is the perfect day for a run in the park or a hike to a waterfall, but I'm becrutch-ed, so the best I can do is close my eyes, open my windows, and do crunches like crazy. #notthesame  Can I swim in a boot?

5.  Feeling normal--like I could disappear in a crowd, like I might be remembered for something other than the grubby silver sticks holding me up.

The Bottom Line

I'm so thankful that I'm usually healthy!  Being up for and able to accomplish just about anything I've wanted to try is a major gift.  Really, this injury is minor and will be over soon, but I am going to have to let go of some things and stop putting life on hold.  I may have to take some time off work, so I can keep my foot elevated and encourage circulation.  I may have to let go of running for longer than I thought and find something new to love.  I can't believe how sad I am about that.

Well, any grace or positivity I have in this situation comes only from God (and I'm asking Him for more, and more, and more) because even though it's just a tiny crack in my 5th metatarsal, it feels like a crack in my independence, and it sucks.

Sniff. Ffftttt.  Argh.

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Sunday, January 13, 2013

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It all started with Passion 2013.  I think the Lord has been on this quest to bring me back to life, and I left Passion thinking about His breath and my dry bones.  Well, loving words and art and poetry like I do and realizing, once again, that all the inspiration I have in my life comes from God, I was chewing on this idea of dry bones.

Dry bones... they're brittle.
Dry bones... they're dead, right?
Dry bones... they're dusty.

But I wanted something new.  I wanted some new perspective, some new way of seeing dry bones that could inspire me to write something or create a painting of some sort.  So, on the way to school Friday, I asked the Lord for a new way of looking at dry bones, and then I parked my car, and I walked into the building.  And, among hordes of arriving middle schoolers, I fell.  What, you ask?  I fell.  Oh, not a dainty fall to my knees.  No, a limbs-flailing, ankle-bending, tights-ripping, coffee cup-flying, shoe-skidding, did-you-hear-that-cracking fall.  Kids screeched to a halt around me: "Are you ok?"

"eh.  Yes.  FINE.  :) thanks."

But I wasn't fine.  The nice looking (incidentally) doctor across the street took x-rays and said, "It's a fracture, but it's hanging on nicely." 

Yes.  For about two-weeks probably.

My life spun around me as I imagined two weeks of sitting on my butt: stuck.  It's funny how life works sometimes.  I haven't been on crutches since middle school.  I asked for a new perspective on bones, and I guess I have it!  One little crack in the wrong bone and my all-too-independent life is hijacked.  One freaky and unexplained fall, and I realize that I'm pretty alone, and I'm not as good at being alone as I thought.

But I'm getting pretty good at navigating stairs on crutches.  Thank you, apartment building.  My right thigh/bum will be amazing after two weeks.  Let's not talk about the left.

Boot.  Cracked.  Metatarsals.
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