April 18, 2014: Good Friday.
I got up at 4;30 a.m. and went to work.
Might as well had gotten up and done something productive. I didn’t sleep the night before. I was so in my feelings. I was hurt about the people who didn’t understand what I was about to experience and wouldn’t lend a hand. I was scared as hell about what was going to happen to me at 9:00 A.M. I was hungry. I was tired. I was just ready to get back to being me….whomever that was. I had been injured for so long that I didn’t know what it was like to dance or teach or run without pain. I had just been doing it. But that last sprint had taken me down and now it was time to go under the knife. I remember Dr. Martens coming in talking to me and I remember going through surgery doors. The next I remember was waking up looking at my husband and feeling this heaviness on my leg. It was a cast. My Achilles was on its way to being healed but, man, did it hurt!
I remember trying to maneuver my way to the bathroom on crutches (I, obviously, should have done more agility training because I was failing miserably). I took a misstep and tried to put my toe down to catch myself as I reached for the dresser. I let out a scream that sent everyone running. I BARELY touched my toe on the ground and there was pain running through my entire body. It was then that I felt lifeless. I sat down and, as a dancer, my first instinct was to try and point and flex my foot. I couldn’t. I was devastated. I knew it was temporary but I honestly felt, in that moment, like my life, as I knew it was over. It was THE most humbling moment of the entire experience. I was starting all over.
Just a couple of weeks ago, the doctor told me I am in the small percentage of people for whom the surgery just didn’t work. I still move with quite a bit of pain, daily. His suggestion? To forget about my ankle and go on with my life. It’s just that my ankle IS a part of my life. What would my life be without movement?
See, since the surgery, I’ve managed to do this:
Life goes on if you’re determined to live it. I’m not crazy. I know my limitations. I also know God. I also know a doctor’s limitations. I also know my dreams. I also know my ambition. I also know Tasha.
Today I don’t just celebrate being out of a cast and being able to point my toe.