Yesterday afternoon I got out and got my mammogram done. Had to go to a very busy area of hospitals with road construction everywhere you looked. Long lines of traffic from all directions.
But I finally found the right parking garage. Only to find I was at one end, and the building I was actually supposed to go into was at the other end. It wasn’t more than a block. And downhill. But I was limping by the time I got to the eleveators.
I do pretty well with my ankle until I have to go do something like that. An hour on my feet, or an hour without my feet elevated, is going to be trouble no matter what I do.
People tell me to just walk a little ways one day and then go a little further the second day. But what they don’t understand is that isn’t the way it works.
If I’m on my feet, and the blood is going downward, I’m going to be in pain. Doesn’t matter if I’m walking or standing. Although standing seems to the be the hardest.
Then when I was done on the 8th floor and came down the elevator to the 1st, where my car was parked in the garage, I was looking uphill. But I made it.
There has to be a better way to do this. I suppose I should look into a handicapped sticker, though I’ve been reluctant (stubborn) about doing so.
I guess I hate to see this thing as permanent. The brace, the pain, the fact that nothing is going to make it better. That is hard to swallow.
But then I tell myself there is always, ALWAYS someone much worse off. So I trudge onward. And feel selfish for even letting myself feel sad about it. It is what it is.
I tell myself: I can still blog. I can still take photos. I just can’t walk or drive far. So I have to work my life around it. It makes you feel more vulnerable, less safe. Because there is no certainty to what you can do in those circumstances.
But I am grateful for the birds in the backyard, the flowers that will ease up from the soil in springtime, the leaves that will soon bud on the trees. You have to be grateful.
I tried and tried this morning to get a good shot of this woodpecker. But it wasn’t being compliant. It never turned so I could capture its face. Too busy doing what woodpeckers do.
For some reason I can’t explain, this is one of my favorite images I decoupaged on my kitchen cabinets. There is something about the girl facing forward. Something in her eyes.
Something I feel that should be conveyed to me. Her unsmiling stare. The cock of her head. Staring; not eating.
Isn’t it funny how some things just capture us, hold us spellbound?
“To be creative means to be in love with life. You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty. You want to bring a little more music to it. A little more poetry to it. A little more dance to it.” – Osho
I may never dance. But it is enough to be creative.