Day Something-- Spring Equinox

Yesterday, Goldman finally looked at my ankle and said, That looks great. You are ready for physical therapy.

I pumped my fists in the air and said, Yessssssss.

But I still don't want you to walk on it. Two more weeks before you can put weight on it, he said. 

I was so happy to hear the words "physical therapy" that I didn't even care about the walking part. He wrote me a prescription for PT 3x/week for 4 weeks. 

He also told me I can sleep without the Robo-Boot (joy of joys!) and that I don't have to wear it around the house, only when I go out, for protection. At last I am unfettered by heavy, clunky casts!

I am getting so good on those crutches. Also, I have been hopping. A lot. All over the house. I woke up in the middle of doing something the other day and looked around me. Where were my crutches? In the other room. How did I get here? Did I fly? No, I hopped. My right leg is so diesel right now. And yeah, my left leg is, as my mother says, "all dweeby." But PT will start to fix that. Meanwhile, I'm  doing pistol squats: on my right leg, lower myself all the way to sit on the ground without using my hands, and then raise myself back up again on the same leg, without using my hands. Diesel. That's biology for you, my father-in-law says. Humans are adaptable.

Spring is here. This has so been the Winter of My Discontent. I am incredibly happy to feel the milder weather and to open my windows to the breezes in the neighborhood.

I have been wanting to plant things, as I always do at this time of year, veggies and flowers, digging in the dirt, but alas I live on the 3rd floor with little to no fire-escape real estate. I've been staring out the window into the back yard every day, wishing that I could somehow get access to that big patch of dirt down there and grow something. was downstairs, picking up the mail, which is sort of a long journey (stairs are tough when you only have one leg) and the highlight of my activity for the day, and I stopped by the downstairs' neighbor's door. They were cooking pasta and asked me to come in. We started talking about the backyard, and it turns out, they want to plant things too! And they want our help. They're giving us keys to the basement so we can access the yard through the bulkhead. 

So I have been reading through all my gardening books, making lists of things to plant, tools we'll need, steps to take. I'm excited! I love that spring coincides with healing and new beginnings. 

I decided to just take my 12 weeks of leave and not rush myself through recovery. That means I'll be returning to work on April 20th, right after vacation. Tom and I are going to Mexico with my parents and my goal is to be able to walk by then. I think it's feasible. I'm looking forward to having my normal life back, but now that recovery is in sight, the time off seems very precious and like I ought to be doing something productive or at least healthy or at the very least pleasurable. Planting a garden (albeit while sitting down in the dirt) seems like a great thing to do in the meantime while I finish healing.