The Immobility of Time
First and foremost, I must admit I am nowhere near immobile.
I can clearly move around and walk, albeit, slowly but its still walking.
I am about six weeks removed from my hip resurfacing surgery. I’ve been rehabbing around the clock to ensure I avoid a limp or worse yet generating muscle atrophy.
Its still jarring that my surgery requires this level of attention. Every waking moment includes a form of stretching or exercise.
The catch however is that if I work too hard the muscles become weak and pain sets in. If I work too little the muscles stiffen and pain sets in.
Every step forward is a challenge, a challenge that revolves in balancing the discomfort of pain and managing the pain to get through the day.
Everyday is a lie in the sense that I appear healed because I am walking but the reality is that I am obligated to my cane. This obligation comes with its fair share of advantages…Pedestrians on the side walk always provide me the ample room I need to maneuver, seats are almost always offered on subways, and I am occasionally greeted to sympathetic, yet warm smiles from strangers.
Daily, when rehabbing, I begin to think what it felt like to run. While watching basketball games, I begin to think what it felt like to jump. These feelings of actual physical human nature have begun to feel foreign.
It is extremely selfish of me to complain when there are those who suffer from worse afflictions and continue to bare brave faces in dealing with any obstacles.
As for myself, my emotional feelings delve anywhere between angst, anger, and frustration.
Stairs have become a distinct metaphor currently; the battle of good vs. evil…or basically, a split second of anxiety and a full second of self motivation.
In the past I’d jump two at time, now every step has meaning, every step has an actual lucid feel…every step is a surge of pain up my leg to remind me that I am healing…
Time, that’s all I hear, thats all that’s recommended to me…”no worries, time will heal, you, you will be back in no time.” Actually, no, it’s going to take a year of this. A year of stiffness and stretching in the morning, a year of learning how to walk properly again, a year to learn how to run, and potentially jump…
It doesn’t matter how hard I push or how hard I work to recoup…I am glued to this timetable and the reality is based on time itself. There never isn’t anyway to fast forward or to inch forward quicker…time for all argument, is what it is.
I commend those brave souls that endure a lot worse than what I am going through. The frailty of the the human body when compromised a beyond comprehension.
