Apparently I used to spend a fair amount of time dancing. Around my apartment. Subtly moving to a good song while working out at the gym.
I realized this today because right now I can’t break out into random dance steps. The big fat brace on my knee says it’s not a good idea. And today I wanted to in the worst way. Just be Nancy. Move.
I also found myself looking longingly at someone wearing a nice high heel today. No feeling like that little bit of height, how it makes your gait so saucy and confident.
Maybe it’s all hitting me today because it is also the day I decided I’ll likely be having surgery on the knee. I wanted to explore other options first, but it’s not getting better and we’re at five weeks today. I’m active. I need a plan that keeps me that way. And I have implicit trust in my physical therapist who concurs with all of the above.
I have already learned so much in all of this. One is that almost every person on the planet has had a knee problem and they’re all too willing to volunteer the details of their experience. While it’s mostly well-intended, I’ve had a few people scare me and I don’t appreciate it a bit. I am proud of not being “cut” happy. Pure and simple. My mother likened this to how freely women share their pregnancy experiences with other pregnant women and how the gory details can scare the socks off a first-time mother-to-be.
I’ve also learned that while it’s humbling and grounding to be limited in mobility, it’s also like a port in the storm. Forced stillness. And boy do I hate to admit that I’m not so adept at disciplining myself to be still with thoughts and feelings, especially unpleasant ones, and so my body is almost taking care of me by insisting I chill out and be. A trip to the post office or grocery store and I’m done for the day on my allotment of outings. I can work at my desk in spurts. And then it’s rest, icing, more rest.
I see a divine hand in all of this. I mean, I know that’s always there, but there is something about all that’s gone on in the last five weeks that has made it glaring. How I’ve been protected, nurtured, driven, loved, guided. Amazing. Other worldly. I don’t know how else to describe this plane I’m on. I’ve never been here before.
Sadness has started giving way to a spiritually healthy feeling of reconciling all that’s happened. I feel purposeful, but with not quite the physical energy to push myself like I would have before. Again, divine. That is not supposed to be the pace.
I’ll dance soon enough.
