Well…almost healed. Yesterday, was the first morning that I’ve woken up and started moving around like my normal self. I am still tender to move up and down stairs or stride around easily outdoors but on the flat even surfaces of the house, it is great. What a relief!! I know it is not perfect and complete healing is still going to take months, but I finally feel energized! I haven’t posted anything during this whole escapade with my ankle. It was just too hard to “speak”.  I basically put aside social media. Some would grab onto it to keep them connected and sane but in my situation, I had to put it away. It would have pulled me down or rather, I would pull myself down.  I was already somewhat physically removed, and I couldn’t take the reminders that results from browsing things such as Facebook. Also, the negativity that is out there would overwhelm me when I was already feeling vulnerable and on tenuous ground.  

Everything was hard. Sleeping was frustrating and broken because of pain and the discomfort of having this big log, AKA cast on my leg and foot. I can’t count how many times I woke up from kicking myself or trying to turn without getting tangled in blankets. Getting up to use the washroom in the middle of the night, on any given day is a bit of a pain.  These days I’m lucky if I sleep right through the whole night. In a no-weight bearing cast, well you can just imagine…

But I managed. Somehow, I survived with the help of my family and my stubbornness to not complain too much. It is what it is, and I needed to be positive. I surprised myself because I was so wary of getting depressed and being emotional. I am not good at asking for help, for the big or the little things. I had to ask a lot of my family. I texted friends a bit but not a huge amount. I feel guilty for the little bit that I did because they had to be a consoling and comforting ear and it pains me to put others in that position for my benefit. So, considering or despite, how much I cut myself I did ok.


More Than a Few Books on My Shelf

Books are a weakness of mine. I have always loved reading. I enjoyed it immensely growing up. I remember spending hours sprawled across my bed or tucked in the corner of the couch. I read all through the night on many occasions. I am sure my mom wasn’t fond of me sleeping until three in the afternoon to catch up on sleep but I don’t remember her ever discouraging me from reading my books. She always kept my bookshelves full of the stuff I loved, and as I grew supported my attraction to stories. I made my way through series like Nancy Drew and Little House on the Prarie. Reading was such an escape for me. It still is when I get a book that really grabs me.

The past few years have been full of false starts. I’ve picked up many books, read part way but have actually completed only a handful. These books sit on my shelf patiently waiting for another chance. E-books also wait quietly out of sight on my Kobo. It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy them. I am just too distracted and often find that I don’t leave enough down time for myself and when I do I am usually so tired that I just want to sit mindlessly relaxing in front of the tv. I used to be such a crazy reader. I often found myself engrossed in a story, fact or fiction. Soon after I finished one I’d be into the next. So what’s happened?? I’m busy, but not so much that I shouldn’t be able to pick up a book.

There is so much talk and study about the effects of technology – our devices and social media, on our brains. You don’t have to read an article or watch a news story to see how involved we are with our phones. They are not just phones anymore. Our lives are so integrated with them that it is hard to let go and not be so reliant on it for everything. During the summer I made a conscious effort to not pick up my phone and browse aimlessly. when I went outside to relax on the porch or at the beach I left it inside or in my bag and brought out a book instead. And you know what? It worked. as I read more the material carried me and it wasn’t a struggle, much to my relief.

I read The Chimps of Fauna Sanctuary by Andrew Westall, Unprocessed by Megan Kimble and Zero waste home by Bea Johnson. These books all had a purpose partly for research and interest but also they entertained. The fauna reminded me of Dian Fossey and Jane Goodall – women who deeply moved me and helped solidify my love of animals. It was set in Canada which brought it closer to home. A true story that I could tie and make connections to from my memory of the past. I was intrigued in when they made mention of some past event or name that I already knew. So it pulled me in when I picked up and began this book that had sat on my shelf waiting for its pages to be turned.