FGF
learning to walk edition
Happy FGF all.
First off, everyone wish Ozzy a very Happy Birthday and additionally wish me well because I spent way too much on him for nothing. He didn’t touch any of the $8 a piece dog birthday cookies and cupcakes I got him and he completely destroyed this brand new party hat in approximately 117 seconds but whatever. In my defense you only turn one once. Wednesday was the big day and I don’t know why I feel like a mother to a human child saying things like “they grow up so fast” and “man, where does the time go?” but here we are. Technically in dog years he’s now no longer considered a puppy but…let’s be real, this batshit crazy guy will be a child for, like, four more years. Oh goody.
Second, on Monday while many were running the creme de la creme of marathons in Boston, I had my six week post-op check up where, much to my PT’s excitement after what could’ve been its own season of Beef between my surgeon and him, I was FINALLY CLEARED TO START WALKING AGAIN!
Now in theory, after six weeks of bed rotting, this sounds super exciting. Triumphant. Olympic-adjacent. Like I should be scoring this moment to Chariots of Fire and slow-mo running down the beach. And don’t get me wrong, I felt all of these emotions.
But now, four days into this reality, I am peg-legging through my house and on uneven sidewalks like a disgruntled colonial ghost who died in a stair-related accident. New parts of my body now hurt for no reason.
The official instructions were: “You can weight bear now. Walk with the brace on.” What my surgeon did not say was: “You’re going to forget how to be a human with legs.” Nothing prepares you for how deeply humbling it is to relearn walking, an activity you previously performed while texting, holding coffee and emotionally spiraling, only to now require the concentration of the Artemis launch.
Step. Brace locked. Heel down. Don’t twist. Why is my heel yelling at me.
Who invited my quad to this panic attack.
Also, we need to talk about The Noise.
Nothing says “hot girl spring” like sounding like a folding lawn chair every time you move. Seriously. I don’t know if it’s the stitches or ligaments readjusting but should I be concerned that my knee literally squeaks every time it’s moving past 60 degrees? It’s alarming and I’m told it might STAY THAT WAY FOREVER?!
And the exhaustion is now on to its next final boss level. Walking 15 feet to the bathroom now feels like I summited Everest. I arrive at the sink winded, emotionally transformed, and needing a snack like I just completed the Boston Marathon.
Meanwhile, my brain, which has enjoyed decades of casual, unconscious walking, is now micromanaging every movement like an overbearing stage mom: Heel first. No twisting. Tiny steps. Why are you limping weird? Fix it. No, not like that. Ma’am. I am doing my best.
But the biggest betrayal is how betrayed my foot feels. My heel, specifically, is acting like it has been personally wronged by gravity itself. “Oh, we’re using this now? After SIX WEEKS of unemployment? Bold.”
Still, despite the peg-leg shuffle, the loud brace, the dramatic heel protests, and the deeply unsexy mechanics of it all, walking again feels weirdly victorious. Like unlocking a basic life skill I took wildly for granted. (Seriously. Never take walking for granted, able-bodied folks.)
So sure, while I look like I’m auditioning to play “Injured Townsperson #3” in a historical drama, I’m upright. I’m mobile-ish. I’m clomping forward. And honestly? I’m ready to transition out of the bed-rotting era and slowly turn into the character-development-on-the-move era on my long road to healing.
Next milestone: walking while holding my oat milk latte without feeling like a newborn deer in orthopedic hardware. Pray for me. Have a great weekend all.
THE SHALLOW STUFF
Ready to laugh?
Ready to smile?
Ready for your pump up song of the week?
THE DEEP STUFF
Ready to cry?
Boston Marathon edition (minus the last one which boy oh boy get your tissues out for)
Ready to be inspired?
Ready for your good deed of the week?
It’s quite literally Volunteer week as you read this and it was Earth Day on Wednedsay so take your pick and do something. Might I recommend donating old gently used shoes to Strides in Recovery? (Seriously, hit me up if you have any.)
THREE THINGS I’M LOVING THIS WEEK
SHOW: Beef S2 on Netflix
ALBUM: Cruel World by Holly Humberstone
