Trying for patience

Damfino Lake last Thursday

Our hike last Thursday would only have been prettier if we had some sun instead of mist and fog, although nobody really minded. I had such a good time, until I fell, and now I am on the injured list. And I am not a patient person when it comes to being injured. There is a boardwalk at places around this lake, and it was on a slippery segment that my feet came out from under me, and I landed hard on my sacrum. I saw stars and couldn't move for several minutes. That was three days ago, and although I am able to walk, it's not at a pace that I am happy with. There is no obvious bruising; the damage seems to be inside, since I cannot actually put my hand on the sore spot. I suspect I will not be hiking next Thursday, and my activities are curtailed enough to make me grumpy.

It is not my imagination that I seem to fall more often than other hikers. My friend Melanie says it's because of all those parachute landings that I want to be closer to the ground, but it was only in jest, because if there is one thing I don't want to happen, it's to get hurt. Why is it always me who seems to end up having someone needing to carry her backpack while she struggles down the trail?

There is already hardware in my sacral area (a couple of long pins), on the right side, and I seem to have fallen with the majority of the impact on the left side of my spine. There doesn't seem to be any broken or cracked bones, and over the past two days I have been able to move a little better each day. But there was no way I could have gone on yesterday's walk with the ladies, because my pace is way too slow, even though I'm upright. It brings back the memory of that terrible landing I had where I broke my pelvis in six places, the worst damage having been in the right sacral area. I was in the hospital for six days and in a rehab hospital for another week or so, before going home on crutches and unable to walk unaided for months. That was almost twenty years ago; I have to remember to give myself more time to heal, since I'm older. And the damage is much less, but it sure does bring back unpleasant memories.

Sometimes I think that the main lesson I have to learn in this life is patience. That, and learning to have compassion for my own shortcomings. It sure doesn't help anybody for me to beat myself up because of events that happen, thinking "if only" — but I do that often. In the past two days I have relived that fall and pictured how different life would be today "if only" I had not been walking so fast downhill on slippery boards. I get quite accustomed to being able to get outdoors and doing what I've been doing for decades, and it's only when I am held back by my own folly that I consider maybe it's time to change things up a little.

The first bad fall I remember as an adult was on a ski slope, when I suffered a spiral fracture in my ankle and was in a cast for a month or two. The pain of the fracture was intense, but it was the aftermath that I remember the most: having that clumpy cast on my leg and having to try to live my active life with it attached to me. Back then (in my thirties) I had a bike that I rode everywhere. Suddenly I was unable to ride it at all, so I purchased bike rollers that allowed me to ride my bicycle indoors, even with my cast, and at first I held onto the wall to balance as I got going. Actually, I ended up loving the contraption, because in no time I could work up a sweat and get a good workout, even while injured.

What I learned from the pelvic fracture, however, is that when you do damage to that area, it affects your entire body. My rehab from that break meant that it was a huge effort just to try to lift my legs a short distance from the bed, and it was necessary for me to attempt it several times a day to strengthen the muscles in my pelvis. Sleeping was also difficult, because I had an external fixator drilled into my hip bones that kept my pelvis in place. That meant I had to sleep on my back, which I have never done, although I was able to use pillows to get into a semblance of a side sleep. Looking back to those days, I realize that today it will only be a matter of time before I'm back to normal. That's my hope, anyway.

If it gets worse or doesn't start to get much better within a week or two, I'll be at the doctor's office trying to figure out what to do about it. My instinct tells me that it is just a matter of time, but that could also be wishful thinking. I've been accused of that more than a few times. We are all simply who we are, doing what makes sense to us as we move through our lives, trying the best we can to make sense of things.

My hope is that I will be able to learn the lessons I've been given in this short lifetime, so that perhaps I will not have to come back and learn it all again. If we get to come back, that is. We won't know that until later, if at all. I like to think that some part of my consciousness will still exist after death, but that might come from (you guessed it) wishful thinking.

I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience, compassion. These three are your greatest treasures. —Lao Tzu

I will try my best to learn these three things in this life, because I have to agree with Lao Tzu that they are my greatest treasures. Compassion for others comes easy, but for myself it's much harder, a lesson I will take to heart in the coming weeks.

And now it's time to move (carefully) into the rest of my Sunday, with my dear friends. My beloved is sleeping quietly next to me, my tea is gone, and the day beckons. I send to you, dear friends, peace and love and hope that the coming week will bring you all of that in great measure. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things.