A few weeks ago I fell at work and hurt myself a bit. Actually, I fell twice in the same spot. More proof I am slow learner but probably also a result of some combination of the awesome shoes I was wearing and the 70-year-old flooring at work.
Which to me clearly says that someone needs to replace the flooring in that spot because I shouldn’t have to go to work in anything less than awesome shoes. Just sayin’.
I am happy to report that I did not fracture my kneecap. Actually, I am very happy to report that I did not fracture my kneecap! Although I did have the realization that I probably need more sleep when I actually dozed off for a moment lying on the x-ray slab waiting to see if the radiologist was happy with the pictures. I couldn’t help it; it was so quiet and peaceful and cell-phone free at the clinic. I wonder if you can rent space there. But, I digress.
My knees are almost back to 100% after a week of avoiding stairs and another few weeks of going slowly and using the handrails. No biggie. Except maybe for the fact that the weekend after I fell I had to go to two sporting events at BC Place, Vancouver’s stadium. Which has more stairs than one of those M.C. Escher prints.
Which is ironic since there is an amazing statue of Terry Fox at the Stadium, a guy for whom a ramp was clearly okay. It’s like they’re saying, “Listen, Terry Fox ran halfway across Canada (a marathon a day), on one leg with cancer. Now, get your ass from gate B to gate E without so much bitching.”
My knees have bounced back nicely for which I am grateful. What is taking longer is my back, my lower back. I think my back muscles were all like WTF?! It’s healing but it’s still sore, especially if I sit for too long or try to lift something heavy from ground level.
In my new spirit of awareness that “asking for help does not mean sacrificing your independence on the altar of weakness”, I have had to ask for help with the lifting and carting that comes with daily life.
Which has left me feeling kind of like a Princess because I don’t really look like I need help, and I can lift things above my head and carry stuff. I just can’t really get it from ground level to mid-level. At least with my knee limp I looked like I really should be taking the elevator. Or, creeping along by the railing at a snail’s pace at BC Place. Again, my thanks to that
annoying charming streak of stubbornness that I have.
And then there’s that part of me that says “wow, you can ask for help and people are nice enough to help!” Which has been lovely but maybe dangerous because I’m a bit worried that I’ve awakened my inner Princess and that things could easily get pretty ugly pretty fast. I can see how really rich people can just get used to having people do things for them. Cook, shop, drive, tweet. Whatever.
I’d be more worried except that while I’m lucky enough to have friends who will help lift things, these are also the same friends who will say, “yeah, you can totally do that on your own and I’ll be right here on the sideline cheering you on”.
I just hope they’re there the next time I have to get from gate B to gate E.