Sometimes I get ahead of
myself, or maybe I mean behind myself. I
have a tendency to worry about the life I was supposed to have (at least in my
mind) and forget to live the one I do have.
It is pretty easy to ignore this as I go through the motions of the day.
There is work to get done. After work my daughter has to be fed, bathed and put
to bed. But there is nothing quite like immobility to really put things in
perspective.
I have spent nearly two
weeks in a recliner at my parents’ house. Talk about the way something wasn’t
supposed to play out. The script in my head read differently on this one. I had
long overdue foot surgery. I have a genetic deformity that for years has given
me trouble on and off. Well whether from age or weight gain, it began to hurt
all the time and limited my footwear choices to approximately two pairs of
shoes. So it was time and I carefully planned my surgery so that it would
happen right before spring break. That way I would have the week off and could
return to work with everyone else on the following Monday.
During my consultation I
heard the doctor say “five weeks non-weight bearing.” I even told my mother
this. Still in my head I was heading back to work, and heading home after that
first week down. Well the jokes on me. I have left this recliner only to go to
the bathroom and just recently started sitting at the table to eat dinner with
the family. This still requires an extra chair to elevate my foot.
Now it looks like I might be
returning to work next week, on crutches or with a walker. My stay at my
parents will probably closer to five weeks than five days. Thankfully, I am
blessed with parents who will do anything for their children, including
refilling a glass of ice tea multiple times a day.
Even as I significantly
underestimated all of these things, the thing that I didn’t think would be a
big deal has been the biggest deal of all – the effect my immobility has had on
my three year old daughter. It isn’t that my daughter was an afterthought in
all of this; this, however, wasn’t that far off our regular routine. She often
spends two nights a week with my parents so that I can go to grad school. She
loves spending time there. I often think she prefers it to our home.
She hasn’t complained about
being at Grandma and Grandpa’s but she has at times forgotten that she is potty
trained. Proudly announcing that she has peeped in her panties. This would be
bad enough if it didn’t mean that my mother, who is already playing nursemaid,
wasn’t the one having to clean her up. She also has become argumentative about
getting dressed and going to bed. She often starts sobbing because one of us
has committed some unforgivable sin that we are not aware of and she isn’t
willing to explain. She has told me on one occasion that she is mad at my foot.
I have been at a bit of a loss with all of this. This isn’t normal behavior for
my beautiful girl. My parents have been beyond patient and understanding. I
keep telling myself that I will be walking again soon and this too shall pass.
But there is a moment, nearly
every night, usually between 2 and 4 am when my sleepy little girl, who is used
to sleeping with me, walks out of her room and into the living room. She says
the same words each time, “I need you mommy.” And then she climbs up into the
recliner and finishes her slumber on top of me. And for a second I can live in
the moment as I think “This is what life is all about.” Followed by a sad
thought, “that this too shall pass.” She will get too big to sleep in a
recliner with me and more heartbreaking, she will probably stop wanting to. But
for this moment she is my sweet girl and it doesn’t matter that I can’t walk or
get her a cup of juice. She needs her Mommy.
