6 Weeks

The orthopedic surgeon called me today to say I have a stress fracture of the femoral neck (my hip). Since this fracture is on my left side, and I drive using my right leg, I can drive. But no weight bearing of any kind.

"Are you kidding me?" At this point, I was actually laughing over the incongruency of my expectations against his instructions. Originally, I was hoping I had pulled a muscle or torn a ligament or something and that he was going to tell me just to go light on my workouts for a while. Six weeks on crutches was not at all what I'd imagined.

In fact, this diagnosis is the "best case" at this point. The MRI will be read by the hospital today to determine if the fracture is complete; if it is, then we're talking possible surgery.

He said I need get in the car and drive to his office and get my crutches. Now.

So I did what he suggested. I still can't believe I'm now walking around with crutches. That half-marathon coming up in three weeks is entirely out of the question. And the Run Like Hell 5k the week after that. And the Thanksgiving Day 10k. Guess I'll shoot for the Flying Pig in April...

Good thing I have a sense of humor about it all today. (Last Thursday, it would have been a different story. My sense of humor took a personal day and was nowhere to be found.) I asked the nurse about everyday errands, like grocery shopping. She told me I might want to use the motorized cart for a while. Stunned, I just paused. "Are you serious?" I asked. Yes, she was. Well, there's no way a cheek of mine is going to settle into a motorized grocery cart. Not until I'm 90, and maybe not even then.

I decided to try out my maneuverability while running some errands near the doctor's office. Didn't even make it through the front doors of Dick's without someone asking me if she could carry my bag for me. (!) No, thanks...

Then I went next door to Bed Bath & Beyond. I'm happy to say that I singlehandedly supplied comic relief to all of their employees and customers during that little jaunt. Let me describe the scenario:

Yes, I was determined to push a shopping cart -- of course, mine had to be the one with the bum wheel that caused the cart to list to the side -- while learning to use crutches, without accepting help. About every 10 to 20 feet, I was approached by someone offering to help. Very nice, but unnecessary, in my opinion. I'm a perfectly healthy 39-year-old woman! I don't need help! Although they were practically begging me to let them help me...

So I made my purchases and then headed to the car. After refusing all that help, I realized that my car was actually downhill from the store. Just think about it. In fact, go ahead and picture it. I've got a bum left leg and new crutches, and a runaway cart headed downhill forever -- yet unpredictably so, since it also had a bum left wheel and definitely couldn't be counted on to go where I aimed it.

Yet, there I am, hobbling along. Hobbling pretty fast, actually, since I had to get ahead of the cart and then use my behind to stop it. While using the crutches to brace myself against the impact. (Is this what the doctor intended when he told me absolutely no load-bearing activities?) Then repeating. I actually made it pretty far with my cart-moving method.

Finally, an older gentleman called out to me. "Ma'am? Now, I know you don't need help. I can see you're doing just fine on your own. But would you let me push your cart the rest of the way to your car?"

Do I stick with my pride? Or give in? I'd made it so far on my own! Yet I was getting tired of the shenanigans.

I turned and smiled. "Yes! Thank you!" I don't know who was happier.

Ah, yes. Six more weeks.