Anchors

I went down a rabbit hole today. Come with me…

Yesterday was a milestone for me – the 3 Month Follow-up Visit. For every one of my post-op follow-up visits the anticipation is like being 7 years old and waiting for Christmas. It is exciting and I do everything I can to be fully prepared, having been a diligent patient every single day along the way.

Yesterday was an especially important one since we were interested in seeing the bone growth – was it happening at all with the metal allergy? If so, at what rate? HOW DOES IT LOOK?? And what is the plan moving forward?

I went in knowing it could be anything from no healing at all, to good, on track healing. Best picture, I’d go home to heal for three more months and then come back and do it again.

I got the best picture result, so I should feel happy and excited to keep going and energized and all of that, right?

But I wasn’t. Quite.

I was stuck focusing on the fact that I have 14 weeks until my next appointment. That’s not that far off, but looking back at the last 12 weeks, they have been LONG. I know the next 14 won’t be like the first 12, but I needed to Pause and Reframe in order to make a fresh plan for myself. Why does the next Milestone Day feel so far away? I’ve had plenty of “3 more months” waits before, so what is different this time?

The metal is awful. I won’t color it another way, use pretty words to dress it up, etc. It just plain sucks. Apparently I’m the only one to ever even notice it in there with this particular surgery, but for me it is a constant Everything Suck – attention sucker, energy drainer, movement limiter, pain provider, grouchy mood inducer. This creates time drag in life. 

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Even with all my experience and tools in my box, I’m having to dig deep with how to self-manage. I cannot change the metal (well, we can but it is a huge surgery and ordeal that isn’t the best choice) and I’m doing everything I possibly can to promote healing. The only part left is my mind. I need to fortify my mental endurance and figure out why this time is so different.

As always, I have projects I’m doing that are helpful and meaningful. 

As always, I’m digging into my toolbox and making use of what’s best.

But what is different this time that has me feeling unsettled?

I went round and round with this all morning, on my bike ride, though some weird Google searches about the significance of the number 98 (the number of days until my next milestone visit), ideas of learning the Greek alphabet, ultimately deciding that I need to get outside of myself. Maybe I also need a vacation? Grow some plants from seeds? A nap? (Weird mental spinning like this is what helps me find the answers so bear with me. It’s my mental version of Sh*tty First Drafts with writing.)

And then I figured it out. I realized what is missing with this recovery.

Anchors!

That’s what it is! At this point with the other surgeries I was going to PT at least once a week. And not just PT, but PT with Sue Torrence, Hip PT Maven! This weekly time with her was my most important anchor, an anchor that felt like home. I had check-ins and progress goals and a protocol to live by, but also I had genuine care and attention.

This time I’m flying solo. I am n of 1.

No BFFdoingitatthesametime, no tribe of other bjinuz braces wearers to feel the presence of, definitely no fellow allergic-to-the-implants folks, no protocol, no PT, no mini milestones. And no PT with Sue.

So I moved on to figuring out what I can replace that with. What can I do that is meaningful, above and beyond my other projects? I don’t need PT or external validation this time, I need new anchors.

I need something for getting outside of myself that serves others and also brings me joy.

And then I figured that out.

Anchor #1

I need to pick up my cameras. I haven’t been shooting much the last several months because I haven’t been able to move well enough to do it. But when I do, I am happy, almost always in a state of flow, and I create art that is a gift for myself and my family. This is a ton of fun for all of us.

So, I am committing to photographing my family and whatever else seems interesting once a week. This is my first new anchor.

Anchor #2

Next, I submitted an application as a volunteer photographer for Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. I have wanted to do this for years but didn’t think I was brave enough. I have the courage now. I am putting myself out there with this blog so I am also putting myself out there with my art and care as love and gifts for others.

Upon approval, I’m committing to giving the gift of heirloom photographs for families in the sacred moments of their most difficult experience. I did not get this gift during My Most Difficult Experience and wish dearly that it was available to me, so it will be my honor to give in this way to others. Given my personal experience and photography skills, I can think of no better way to give that makes use of the best of me. This is a unique area of need that requires uniquely suited givers.

It takes 2-4 weeks for a review of my portfolio so stay tuned. This will be my other new anchor.

Maybe this is how I integrate My Most Difficult Experience with my current journey. Maybe this is part of Big Tab One.

I want to make this time period count. These new anchors on top of what I am already doing, my sharp set of tools, and my experiences have me feeling pretty badass right now and ready to rock the next 14 weeks!

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