Greek Freak Out

Greetings from Santorini! Right now, we're in a beautiful hotel that overlooks the caldera. We spent the day on a boat touring the islands. It should've been paradise, but for me, there was a big issue ... the steps.

All of the towns in Santorini are up hundreds and hundreds of steep, uneven steps that have been built into the cliff. You can walk, ride a donkey, ride a motorbike, or if you're lucky, get a cab or bus. We've mainly been using public transport, but there are some areas that you can only get to on foot ... which means climbing up and down these steep stairs.

I've been pushing myself for the past week and it's catching up to me. This morning, we walked to the cable car which takes you down to port so we could catch our boat. Jon said that it was a "short walk" through town to get it to it. But that "short walk" was about a mile up and down over these steps. Adding to this was the fact that I hadn't slept well and hadn't yet had breakfast when we did the walk. Plus, it was hot out. I completely freaked out. I sat down on a stoop and just burst into tears. I feel really stupid about it now, but at the time, I was in pain and frustrated.

I did make it to the cable car and relaxed for the rest of the day. In the evening, we went to the town of Oia to watch the sun set. We spent several hours just hanging out at a cafe and made friends with some cats. Later, to get to the main square, we again had to walk over a bunch of steps. Only after having relaxed all day and eaten, it didn't seem as bad. I was able to enjoy the scenery and the town and not think about them so much.

Tomorrow is our last full vacation day before we begin the trip back home. I hope that when I get home, I'll be stronger and all of this physical stuff I've been doing will have paid off.

Great Expectations

When I spoke with my friend Scott yesterday, he noted that I seem to be in a positive place. I guess I am. Things definitely aren't perfect, especially when it comes to my weight and health, but I'm making progress. I can't say for sure that losing weight will prolong my life -- even the healthiest people can unfortunately be struck with a terminal illness -- but losing weight is definitely starting to enhance the quality of my life.

I can get in and out of chairs a lot more easily, without having to heave myself up, and my walking is improving each day. Pretty soon, my list of "normal" things that I'm able to do will expand: I'll be able to stand in line, walk around a store to shop, take a walk around a lake, go hiking... maybe I'll even be able to ride a bike or go scuba diving at some point. It's amazing how many doors open for you just if you can move. You don't even have to be in great shape to experience these things; you just have to be in average enough health so that you can move your body the way that it's meant to without hundreds of extra pounds of fat attached to it.

This evening at the gym I really surprised myself. I did my 10 minutes on the elliptical and kept the resistance at level 3. Those 10 minutes felt easy, so I'm going to try 15 when I return on Thursday. I then went to the bike and pedaled for a few minutes; by now, I can go fast enough so that the bike registers me. But after about five minutes, I started to experiment and turned it to Level 2. It felt good. Two minutes later, I moved on to Level 3. I kept going, raising the levels every couple of minutes until I topped out at Level 6! I couldn't believe it. Just a couple of weeks ago, I could barely pedal the bike. I did 15 minutes of moving from one level to another, then cooled down for five. It was a good ride.

They say it takes about six weeks to see a difference when you work out. I'm getting to that mark and I can feel some changes. I'm still huge but my stomach is less obstrusive and I'm gaining strength in my body. I still have about two months until Greece, so there's a lot of work to be done. I'm not expecting to be a Grecian goddess, but I feel as if I'm training for my own, personal Olympics.

Mad At The World

Ever have one of those days where you just WANT to be angry with something? This is how I'm feeling today. I'm just angry -- and I don't have PMS so I'm not sure exactly WHY I'm angry, which is freaking me out a little.

For the most part, I had a nice day. PT went really well this morning and I spent the rest of the day at my friend Scott's house, where he hosted a wonderful party. The weather was gorgeous, the food was great and the company was friendly ... but little things kept nagging at me all day and the more I tried to not think about them, the more they bugged.

For starters, the elevator at the train station wasn't working, so I had to lug my walker down about 30 steps. No one offered to help and when I called Scott to pick me up at the station, he didn't answer (turns out he was in the shower). So now I was angry with him, with the elevator and with the passersby for not helping someone who was obviously struggling.

A few minutes later, Scot sent a friend to pick me up, so no big deal, and I know that the elevator breaking was just something that happens. I should've been grateful to Scott for getting me a ride when he could've just said, "Take a cab," and I should've applauded myself for getting down those stairs by myself ... but all of these feelings started to bubble up.

Once at the house, I needed to use the restroom, but the upstairs one was occupied and the grout was drying in the downstairs one. Again, I found myself getting angry over something that wasn't the end of the world. In fact, I wanted to throw a tantrum like a toddler (I didn't!).

Finally, I sat down outside and enjoyed a nice grilled veggie sandwich, somke veggie chips and salads. I had a few cookies, but stopped myself before I went into a full-on binge (remember, cookies are my weakness). It was peaceful and I started to relax a bit. Still, I was plagued with doubts about things all day. I was disappointed that no one, including my parents, commented on my weight loss. I found myself wondering if I was being social enough, since it was difficult for me to stand around and mingle with my leg still weakened. I was happy to see my oldest friend, Lani, there ... but she spent much of the time talking to other guests and I became angry with her for "abandoning" me because again, I couldn't really get up and follow her as she stood with people and chatted. I was angry with my husband for arriving later than he'd planned, and then giving my parents a curt hello rather than enthusiastically greeting them with a hug and a kiss.

Again, I'm not sure why I have so many negative feelings today. If I sit back and really think about things, nothing really bad happened. Lani and my friend Suzanne both made sure that I had food all day and the Lani gave us a lift to the station at night, so it's not as if she really abandoned me. It was a party and not her fault that I can't move well; it wasn't up to her to babysit me all night. Meanwhile, my dad told me that he wants to take my husband out to thank him for taking care of me after my injury. Yes, Jon's "greeting" to my parents sucked and was kind of rude, but he's a good man who's done a lot for me. As for me being social, I think a lot of other people were being quiet, too -- and many of Scott's friends came over to say hello. I mean, I was there for nine hours; it wasn't like it was going to be a crazy party the entire time.

I think that perhaps part of the reason why I'm feeling so low is because I pushed myself so much this week. Going out every night probably wasn't such a smart thing to do during my first week back at work. Also, I think that just losing the weight is affecting my moods. My body is in total shock right now with everything that is happening to it and I'm sure that my hormones are in overdrive. Plus, I'm now being forced to feel things rather than numb myself with binges. I recently read a great weight loss memoir called Hungry by Allen Zadoff where he shared that as his pounds came off, all of his pent-up feelings which he'd been "eating" away started to come out -- and though he was a grown man, he'd act like a teenager. I suppose this is what's happening to me; I'm experiencing every hurt and regret all over again ... so that a small thing like a friend talking to someone else at a party turns into a replay of me being abanonded my a friend for the cool kids back in high school. Or people not noticing my weight loss reminds me of how I always felt unattractive. Since I started gaining weight when I was about 18, I guess I'm emotionally stuck in high school, and I need time to catch up to being 36.

I know it's better to actually feel angry than to quell the sensation with food, but it still sucks. Losing weight is meant to be a healthy thing and this emotional roller coaster I'm riding is an awful side effect. I hope that I can get it together before my emotions completely spiral out of control ... because watching a 36-year-old fat chick kick and scream like a two-year-old would be a very scary sight to behold.

A Long Journey

I took my longest walk to date tonight; my friend Karen and I went to the restaurant that's around the corner from my building and I successfully walked there and back! I had to stop a lot of times and what's usually a five-minute walk took about 15 minutes, but that's okay; I'm slowly building up distances. That particular corner also happens to be my bus stop, so now I know that I can make it there for my commute.

Surprisingly, I found it much more difficult to go downhill than uphill. On the way there, I only had to stop three times and I felt good by the time we reached the restaurant. But on the way home, I had to stop five times, was sweating and my ankle hurt. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because I'd already walked a "long" distance and my body was catching up. Karen mused that it took more work for me to walk downhill because I had less control and had to keep myself from tumbling. That makes sense.

My eating is still going really well. I ate a small lunch today so I could enjoy dinner out and had a nice meal of roasted pork with steamed veggies, black beans and rice. We also split a plate of fried yucca, but between the two of us, we didn't even cover a third of it. I'm discovering that when I have many components to a meal, I tend to eat less of each component. So I filled up on the pork, veggies and beans and then I had less of a craving for the fried stuff.

Karen says that each time she sees me (and we see each other about once a week), that it looks as if I've lost more weight. That's really encouraging to hear, especially since I've been working so hard at it these past few weeks. It's definitely helped me with my walking, as I'm now at least semi-functional.

It's going to be tough when I return to work next week, though, and I'm trying to figure out a food strategy. My problem with my office is that I'm surrounded my temptation. There are take-out places all around my building, a vending machine down the hall and people are always bringing in treats. That said, I think my best bet is to bring some breakfast, lunch and snacks and just continue with the same meals that I've been eating: rolls, low-fat cream cheese, mozzarella, fruit. This way, I'll be set for the day and won't be tempted to order in pizza or something.

I'm definitely not worried about having to sit around all day, though, because just commuting to my job and walking around the office is going to be a strenuous workout for me! It's kind of funny how I used to be able to do 90 minutes on the elliptical not even two years ago, but now a tough workout for me is walking up the block! I think that's why the weight is coming off fairly easily at the moment; now that I'm being so active after months of being immobile, my body is in shock. I'm taking advantage of it while it lasts, because pretty soon, my walk to work will be an afterthought and I'll have to up my game again.

I know that I'm going to have to bite the bullet soon and actually weigh myself. But for now, I'm happy to see my body changing for the better and just want to enjoy feeling independent again.

One Meal At A Time

I'm really proud of myself for having a productive and healthy day. I just got back from dinner with a friend and was pleased with all of the choices that I made. We went to one of my favorite restaurants, a Tex-Mex place called Santa Fe, but instead of getting a burrito or enchilada drenched in cheese (and trust me, they are soooo good!), I ordered the veggie fajitas, which came with nice chunky pieces of cauliflower, broccoli, zucchini and onion. I put together two fajitas, spreading on a salsa and just a bit of guacamole. There were chips on the table, too, but I only had a few. And though this place has AWESOME desserts, all I had after the meal was a cup of coffee -- and then when I came home, I had one fruit pop. I was craving chocolate, but didn't give in to it.

It felt really good to have a very satisfying and filling meal that was actually good for me. When I finished, I was full, but I didn't have that sick, bloated feeling that I often get when I've scarfed down too much salt or too many carbs. Plus, it was nice to be out with my friend and enjoy some girl talk. Of course, I relished my food, but I was mainly paying attention to what she was saying; I wasn't obsessing over my meal like I tend to do sometime.

My friend noticed that I've lost weight, too. She'd mentioned this to me when we met up last week, but said that she could see even more of a difference even over the past few days. The difference isn't that big yet, but it's encouraging that people are starting to notice -- and her compliment made me want to keep the momentum going by having a healthy dinner.

Between my tough PT session and successful night out, I'm more positive about the future. This weekend, my goal is to take a long "journey" and circle our block. Right now, that seems as if it's 10 miles long, but I'd love to be active again. If I can move any way I want and do whatever I want, my world will continue to become a much larger place.

Happy Independence Day

I've always liked the Fourth of July. In past years, it meant barbecues, fireworks, family gatherings and memories from when I was a kid and would chase fireflies through the yard. It's a holiday that I associate with warm nights, days off and fun.

This year, though, things are different. It's hotter than hell outside. It's quiet as most of the people in my life are away. Jon and I will be celebrating with a night out at dinner and a movie rather than a barbecue or fireworks display.

It's a little depressing, but I do have much to celebrate aside from it being our country's anniversary of independence. Each day, I'm becoming a lot more independent as my mobility increases.

The PT exercises I've been given are killer, but they seem to be working. Each day, I've been faithfully going through them -- doing squats, marching in place, lifting my good leg out to the front, back and side as I balance on my bad leg (these moves are the worst) -- all of these being done as I keep a 3 lb ankle weight wrapped around my bad leg. To someone with perfect mobility, these moves might not seem like much, but by the time I'm through with my workout, which takes about 40 minutes, I'm dripping with sweat. I've never been into yoga or pilates as I've always preferred weight training and aerobic-type exercises, but I'm beginning to understand the value of strength and balance moves. It takes a lot of concentration and power to keep your leg elevated as you balance yourself, especially when the bulk of your weight is resting on an injured body part.

However, I do seem to be getting stronger. I can now stand up on my own without having to grab onto the walker and can walk a few feet before I need to do a balance check. I still need to "cheat" a little on some moves by leaning over the walker for balance, but I can do more reps in a row and hold my leg up at the various angles for a few seconds longer. And my back hurt a lot less today when I exercised. I made a point to stretch it out between each move and that seemed to help. I think that this, as well as my increased strength made things a bit easier.

The best part of all of this are the small things I can now do on my own. If I need to use the bathroom, I don't need to call Jon for help. If I want something from the kitchen, I can get it myself. It's amazing how just being able to move a few feet can open up your world.

Granted, I still have much work to do. My back is still sore and I know that it's because of my weight. I keep telling myself that if I'm pleased with how much I'm able to do just by getting around the house, imagine how much I'll be able to do if I can walk a few miles without stopping or am able to easily jump, run and dance. So I'm pushing myself to take every step I can and look forward to when movement becomes a second thought again -- though after all of this, I don't think I'll ever take advantage of it. What my body can do will always be appreciated.

Big Improvements

Okay, first the bad news: I didn't go crazy yesterday, but I did have a mini-binge last night. It's my time of the month (sorry any guys who are reading this) and I was craving salt and so I asked my husband to bring me some mozzarella sticks and fries. I ate the mozz sticks and a couple of fries ... but then I was like, "What are you doing?" and tossed the rest. I guess it's good that I stopped myself.

I'm not sure what triggered this exactly, though I have been a little depressed. I think that summer is getting to me. It always seems to be too hot, too long and rather endless and well, kind of empty. The city quiets down. Most of my friends are teachers so they have the time off and many go away. I'm happy for them because they've worked hard, but this year in particular, it's getting to me because we were supposed to go to Argentina and now we can't. I also feel as if my support system isn't around as much as it was thia spring. It's a bit ironic that just at the point that I'm getting more able to do things, the people in my life are disappearing. I realize that it's selfish for me to think this; I mean, I realize that the world doesn't revolve around me, but the situation has made me restless. i'm going to sound like a big baby for what I'm about to say, but, well, here goes: I'm jealous that everyone else is going to have fun and I feel as if I'm being left behind. I mean, what do I have to look forward to -- going back to work, really. I wish I could go on a REAL vacation, as opposed to just having time off for an injury.

But there is good news. Each day, it's getting just a little easier for me to get around on my own. I switched from the Air Cast to a regular sneaker yesterday, so I'm finally back to wearing normal shoes (even though the sneaker had to be unlaced halfway because my foot is still swollen). PT went well and when my dad brought me back upstairs, I successfully managed to walk from the front door to our bed. Then yesterday evening, I walked to the bathroom and Jon helped me into the shower -- my first REAL shower in three months! Yes, I HAVE been washing frequently, but I've been doing it by sitting at the sink and cleaning myself that way. Since our shower has a step into it and I wasn't supposed to get the cast wet, it was tough for me to climb in all of this time. But I finally got to do it last night!

This morning, though, was my biggest challenge. Jon always leaves me breakfast, but instead of giving me a roll, gave me two packs of low-fat cream cheese. I didn't want to live on grapes and bananas all day, so I took the walker and made my way to the kitchen and back -- by MYSELF -- to get my roll. I was a bit nervous about traveling while I'm home alone, but it was fine. I feel as if I'm getting the hang of this whole walking thing. I know I'd mentioned that my goal was to walk from the front door to our living room, but this was actually a longer distance. I had to stop halfway to sit for a few seconds, but the mission was completed.

Don't get me wrong, walking is still very difficult for me. My foot is very sore whenever I place weight on it and I'm limping really hard. I kind of look like the Frankenstein monster as I go, step, CLOMP, step, CLOMP, but I'm moving and putting weight on it, which is important.

What's a little frustrating is that my back is bothering me when I walk for a long time or do my PT exercises. My therapist assures me that it'll ease up as my leg and back get stronger, but it concerns me given my past back issues. I just hate having the return of that familiar aching sensation. Much as I hated being off of my feet for the past few months, it was nice not having to deal with back pain when I walked.

Of course, I know that things will continue to get easier for me. But being able to get around our apartment is a great start and very appropriate for Independence Day weekend!

Small Changes

At this point, I'm still in a wheelchair and am still not sure if I'll be able to put weight on my leg on Thursday at my doctor's appointment. However, I've been doing my physical therapy and have noticed some small changes in regards to my weight.

For one thing, my husband says that I now appear to be more narrow from the back. He also says that I don't feel as heavy when he pushes me up the ramp from our building. Of course, it could just be that he's gotten stronger after pushing my wheelchair around for almost three months, but I'll take his word for it.

I am definitely not snoring as much, though. Before I would snore loudly enough that I would wake myself up, but Jon says that he hasn't really heard me snoring lately. I also haven't had a sleep apnea episode in a while. This weekend, we had a party and a friend slept over. I was so exhausted that while she was talking to me, I fell asleep in the bed, on my back, with my head rolled back. I usually wouldn't sleep this way because it's when I'm on my back that I have breathing episodes. But I didn't have one during my two-hour nap and my friend also reported that I wasn't snoring -- even in that awkward position.

Of course, with the party, I didn't eat as well as I should've. I had three drinks (for a light drinker like me, this is practically a binge) and had some leftover ziti and cake today. But I didn't go crazy, either. Our guests were like vultures so the food disappeared quickly -- and I was glad that we didn't have tons of stuff to get rid of (and for me to snack on). Tomorrow is another day and I will get back to my usual meals.

At the party, though, I really wasn't thinking of food at all. It was about being with my friends and laughing, and being grateful that I know such awesome people. I guess this is what life is about. Food is just one part of it.

Foot Notes

Since I have good news, I figured I'd give my post a nice punny title -- foot notes, geddit? Ha ha.

Anyway, my foot is well, actually starting to look normal -- less like a chicken fetus and more like a regular body part. It's still swollen and a bit bruised, but it's no longer shriveled and the skin is returning to its normal hue. When I look at it, I no longer cringe in horror at its disgusting appearance.

Even better, it's getting easier to move it. The physical therapist gave me some very simple exercises to do each day: basically, I spend a few minutes moving the foot back and forth and then side to side. I've been able to move it back and forth for a while, but it hurts less when I do that. And I can finally move it side to side! The therapist had warned that I might not ever be able to fully move it in that direction, but I can move it side to side and rotate it at the ankle, which I think is better than he'd expected me to be able to do. It's very stiff and I have to concentrate hard when I do it, but it's possible. I was even able to keep it in time with my other foot when I was moving both side to side simultaneously in a rhythm.

I'm hoping and praying that this means that the fracture is finally healing and I'll be up on my feet again. I'm still nervous about what that's going to feel like, but let me tell you, I'm way more confident about standing for the first time on a normal-looking foot than that withered THING I saw at the orthopedist's office last week. I feel that while I may be sore that this foot will at least be able to support me.

I'm wondering how long it'll be, though, before I can walk without worrying that I'll break my bone again. We went out to dinner tonight at a restaurant that's across the street from where I fell and I cringed as I saw the spot. I'm guessing that I'll feel dread whenever I pass it for a long time to come. But will I be able to do the things I enjoy, like hiking or dancing, in the near future? I hope so.

I was telling a friend recently that I hope that I'll be able to run again. He wondered why when I never really ran in the first place. But it's the idea that I CAN if I want to. I don't want my possibilities taken away. And who knows, maybe if I get into good enough shape, I'll like running. I ran for a short period during the summer between 8th and 9th grade and I really enjoyed it. I'd get up early -- around 5 a.m. when it was still cool out -- and jog about two miles around my neighborhood. I loved how quiet and still it was at that hour and how I'd always be awake when the sun first came up. Unfortunately, I stopped when school started and I was overwhelmed with homework and other activities. But I've never forgotten how peaceful it felt to do those runs. Maybe I want that back. I don't miss much about my teen years, but I do miss that feeling of being slender and light enough on my feet that I could run for an extended period of time. I was never athletic and disliked gym, but I enjoyed running when there weren't gym teachers screaming at me to go faster.

For now, though, I'll take a reasonably decent-looking foot. I've been fighting for it these past few months and it's nice to see that it finally seems to be fighting back.

Hello, Captain Obvious!

So today was my first day of physical therapy. I didn't do much -- mainly showed the therapist my foot and he tested my range of motion. He was pleased to see that I can move it up and down, but says I might not ever be able to fully move it from side to side. Still, he assured me that I'd be walking again and will eventually have my life back.

Of course, my weight came up. Upon seeing it listed on my chart he remarked, "You do know that you need to lose weight, don't you?" Well, duh, yes, of course, I know! I get that he was trying to give me some friendly therapist/patient advice and he WAS a nice guy -- I liked him a lot and hope that he's my main therapist -- but let me tell you a little secret: fat people know that they need to lose weight. TRUST ME. We might not be able to accomplish this, for whatever reasons, be it lack of will power or emotional problems, etc., but we know that we're fat. Pointing it out to us isn't going to help us -- it just makes us think, "No, shit, Sherlock." Guess what? My leg is broken, too, but I didn't need anyone to point THAT out to me!

Just to clarify, I'm not in some sort of denial mode here; I don't expect the doctor or therapist to ignore my problem. But I guess I'd rather he or she just handle it more constructively, i.e., "Losing weight will help you when you begin walking again." I'm open to discussing my weight issues with any medical personnel, but I don't want to be treated like a dummy, either. Believe me, I've been trying to lose weight for years; hopefully, this blog is shedding some light on how complex a weight loss journey is.

Ultimately, we did get to talking in a more productive manner and he was impressed when I told him that I've been lifting weights. He encouraged me to continue and also gave me a few exercises to do with my foot. I asked if I can use a recumbant bicycle, but he said I can't since I'd be putting too much pressure on my foot. He seemed to think it was a positive sign that it didn't hurt when he poked at my leg. I'm just anxious to get going. My first real appointment is on Tuesday morning, so we'll see how it goes. Meantime, I'm going to follow the therapist's instructions and do my weight lifting and leg exercises each day.

All in all, it was a positive experience ... so far. Everyone who's had PT keeps warning me that it's going to get tough at points, so I can't say that I'm looking forward to that. It'll be worth it, though, if the exercise does help me lose some more weight in the longterm.

Countdown Continues

OK, three more days to go until the cast comes off. As of now, the leg feels pretty good. I can rotate the ankle and it feels almost ... normal. I can't even imagine what it'll feel like to walk on it again, though.

Meantime, I'm still trying to work out and move around as best I can. I started weight training with the 8-pound weights instead of the 5-pound ones and it's been going well so far. I can't do as many reps for each move, but that's to be expected. But pretty soon, I'll be able to go back to the Bowflex without having to worry about slipping off the bench or tripping over the cables. Then I'll be able to do full-body workouts. I have no idea what physical therapy will be like, but I'm guessing that they'll have me do some moves that involve light weight training on my leg. The Bowflex has a few of these moves that I can do, so I'll be able to build some strength into it at home.

I'd like to get back into walking outside again because I now have a specific event I'd like to train for (the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society's 10K, next May) and a couple of friends to do this with. Right now, I can't realistically imagine being able to walk far, though, so I've been thinking of getting a cheap recumbant bike. They have some that are less than $150 and have gotten good reviews. I always liked the recumbant bike at the gym and it would be a great way to help build up my leg, too.

This has been a little weird keeping a weight loss blog when I have no idea how much I've lost (or gained). I have a feeling that I've stayed about the same, which I can accept. I think that when I go back to work and have to squeeze in physical therapy, as well, that I won't even have TIME to eat, so I'll see a loss then!

Guilt And Other Emotions

I just heard from a co-worker saying how much I'm missed and asking when I'm returning. We're friends so I know that most of the reason he sent the message is because he really does miss me as a person. However, knowing him as I do, I also know that he's sick of covering assignments for me in my absence. He and I normally work together as a team, so I realize that me not being there has been especially hard on him.

That said, I'm still a little annoyed by the message, especially since similar ones have come up before, like when I've been on vacation. But in this case, it's not my fault that I broke my leg. It's not my fault that our company wouldn't let me telecommute, even though I offered to do so. I feel badly that my co-workers are having to do extra work on my behalf, though I've been told that several of my assignments have been put on hold, which definitely lightens the load. And to be fair, my salary has been seriously slashed since I've been out so it's not like I'm being paid to be "on vacation." Quite the opposite, in fact.

I hate the fact that I feel guilty about this in the first place. I like everyone at my job, but the job itself hasn't always been good to me. I've always worked really hard and I just want to be able to recover without having to stress about work. Now that my leave of absence is almost over, I'm having to think more about juggling things in the "real world," like physical therapy, doctor's appointments and well, my job. Frankly, my recovery comes first. If I have an assignment that needs to be handed over because I have physical therapy, then tough. My health is the priority.

I've been a wimp at work in the past, but I've already decided that one of the first things I'm going to do is have a long talk with my boss about my various concerns. This way, we can openly address them and come up with a plan for dealing before things get too crazy.

My therapist ended up calling me in the middle of my writing this post and suggested that my accident and everything following it will give me the chance to finally stand up for myself at work. I suppose it will. If there's one thing that this has taught me -- and I know I've said this before -- is that I'm stronger than I thought. I've dealt with pain, having my bone popped into place and surgery, and have lived. I can't say I've been brave because I've been worrying and crying at every obstacle, but I haven't had a choice in having to deal with these things. And yet, I've come out OK, and even better in most cases, once the pain was over.

One Week To Go...

Exactly a week from tomorrow I will be getting my hard cast off and will switch to a walking cast. Presumably, I will be able to put weight on my bad leg again and will slowly get back to normal.

This should be good news, but I'm apprehensive, to say the least. For one thing, I'm a wimp and I always seem to end up in some form of pain when I'm at the orthopedist's. Everyone who's recovered from a broken leg has told me that it feels "weird" at first, but I'm just going to go ahead and assume that "weird" is code for "painful." If I'm a little sore, I can deal with it, I think, but the last time I stood on that leg (when I accidentally put my foot down while trying to use crutches), I just about passed out from the agony. Of course, that happened two months ago, so I like to think that my leg has healed a lot since then.

However, I'm also nervous about returning to "normal." Prior to breaking my leg, my being able to walk wasn't necessarily a happy thing for me. Because of my weight, I slugged around and had terrible back pain. Even going to my office -- a 10-minute walk from the bus stop -- was a drag, especially because it's up a hill. I had all of my stops planned out. I'd walk two blocks, then sit on the steps by the church; walk another two and sit on the low ledge by the library; get my breakfast at the deli and then sit on one of the big flower pots in front of our office building while I fished out my work ID from my bag. So that was several stops in the course of a very short walk and yet I still couldn't wait to sit down once I made it upstairs to my office.

Of course, it was even more difficult getting out to do things. If we went into the city, I'd try to find things to do that were right near a subway stop so that I wouldn't have to walk far. I'd planned to have my birthday at a lounge that was right off of the E train, but then they ended up rerouting it that night. We had to get off about three blocks away ... but for me, it felt like three miles. I was so sore and sweaty by the time we arrived and I know that Jon was sick of hearing me complain.

On weekends, I'd often stay in just because I didn't want to have to walk to the movies or to the park. It was more than me being lazy. I WANTED to go. I WANTED to do stuff. It was just hard to get up the motivation when I knew that I'd be hurting. Jon was always patient with me and never said anything when I wanted to take a rest -- even if it was at every block -- but walking was just plain hard for me.

That said, I have to admit that it's been a bit of a relief to be able to go places without having to experience back pain. I've managed to do a lot in the wheelchair and it's been well, nice, being able to go out and see stuff -- and actually enjoy the experience. A few weeks ago, Jon and I went to pick up my walking boot, then took in a movie and lunch at an outdoor cafe near the park. It was such a nice day, but had I walked there (it's about a mile and change from our place), I would've been hurting.

This is why I worry. Now that one of my legs isn't going to be in great shape, how much worse am I going to feel than I did before? I've been lifting weights and trying to watch what I eat, but I have no idea whether I've lost or gained weight or what. I FEEL pretty good -- I've definitely built up some upper body strength -- but I'm still obese. If it took all of my energy to walk a few blocks on two good legs, how on earth will I do it with one-and-a-half? Is it even going to be possible or am I going to have to take more time off from work, simply because I won't be able to move my huge body?

Jon keeps telling me that it'll take time and I'll slowly get my walking back. He's suggested that we keep the wheelchair for a while so that he can still take me longer distances and then I can work on walking around the house, around stores, a block at a time. As for going to work, I guess I'll just have to take it really slowly like the elderly man in our building who practically crawls to the bus stop with his walker each day. And then I'll be in physical therapy. I'm going to be honest with them about what bad shape I was in even before I broke my leg and see if they can assist me with some exercises that will strengthen my back, as well. I guess all I can do is my best and if I need to take more time off to improve, I will. They've done OK without me so far.

I want to get well and I want to get into shape again -- and I know that the only way that I'm going to do this is if I lose weight and push myself. But I'm really not looking forward to dealing with the constant pain that's going to come with it. Part of me wishes I had just one more month to be off of my feet.

Light At The End Of The Tunnel

This morning, I'm getting fitted for my Cam walker, which has been described to me as a "moon boot." Once I begin wearing it in June, I should presumably be able to walk again. Honestly, though, I'm a bit nervous about taking this next step; I'm a little afraid that at my weight, my bad leg will just snap and re-break as soon as I set weight on it. But then again, I've been putting all of my weight on just ONE leg for the past two months and it's held up. Anyway, the Cam walker is supposed to support it as it fully heals and I get used to walking again.

At this point, I have a lot more mobility in my bad leg. I can point and flex my foot and move it at the ankle. I've been told that when I begin physical therapy, one of the exercises they'll probably have me do will involve calf raises, so I've been trying to flex my foot as far as it will go in either direction so that I can stretch out my calf. Though I'm not getting the full impact as I would if I were to put weight on it, I'm hoping that these movements will strengthen my leg so that when the time comes, I will be in okay shape for therapy.

Meanwhile, I'm experiencing more and more benefits from my upper body training. The other day, my friend came over and took me downstairs to a nearby restaurant for dinner. I was a little apprehensive about having someone other than Jon take me out in my wheelchair because he's strong enough to push me and we have a whole system. Basically, I get into an office chair near my bed; he then wheels the chair into the hallway, where I switch into the wheelchair. We then exit through our building's basement and head up to the street via a very narrow and steep ramp. Along the way, however, are several obstacles: first, the office chair has to be pulled over two door moldings within our apartment -- through our bedroom entrance and then through the front door. We then have to contend with the elevator, which doesn't always line up. In fact, sometimes it's about six inches off the floor. And then we have to deal with the basement, which has bumpy, hilly and uneven floors. Finally, there's that ramp, which leaves Jon huffing and puffing by the time we reach the top.

Needless to say, I wasn't sure if my friend and I would be able to pull this off without Jon's help. She assured me that she's strong, though, and I do know our system inside and out. So we decided to make a go of it. To my surprise, I managed to get into the office chair and wheel myself over to the entrance of our bedroom without any help or support whatsoever. We then made a team effort in getting the chair over the door moldings, with her lifting the chair and me pushing it over with my good leg. Once in the hallway, I transfered to the wheelchair, again without assistance, and instructed her how to get me into the elevator and through the basement. And then it was time for the ramp.

My friend began pushing me and I could tell that this was going to be really tough for her. I then had an idea and grabbed the railings which are on either side of the ramp. Usually, Jon just pushes me up, but this time, I pulled myself along as my friend pushed from behind. Again, we worked really well as a team and we made it to the top. Needless to say, having the upper body strength really came in handy! My friend has some pretty incredible strength, too -- here's to girl power!

Last night, Jon and I went out and I showed him how I can now get into the office chair and wheelchair without his help. I'm getting better at negotiating cars, too. In the beginning, getting in and out of cars was a big procedure and I needed help doing it. But now, I can hop in and out of cars with the cast, no problem; I can even deal with curbs. The only time I felt a little shaky last night was when the cabby who was taking us home wanted to drop me off at the pot-holed corner where I initially fell. I refused to get out by what I call the "scene of the crime" and he understandingly took us across the street instead.

I'm glad that I'm feeling a lot more confident in moving my body and getting around, even if my mobility is still limited. It gives me some more hope that things will go well when I'm able to begin walking again three weeks from now.