It’s not getting easier. Not at all. In fact, in some ways it’s getting harder. The pain is dropping, the meds are dropping, and now it’s just me staring at this cast all day, battling the endless difficulties of doing the most basic things. Who knew pouring a cup of tea could feel like climbing Everest?
Who Even Am I?
I don’t like who I am right now. It’s hard to admit, but it’s true. I want to be my old self so badly. This version of me—the one lying in bed day after day—feels like an imposter. Like someone barged in, took over my life, and said: “We don’t want you anymore. You’re someone different now. Someone still. Someone chilled.” I don’t want this.
Phones, Forms, and the Pilates Table of Doom
This morning was spent on the phone—consultant about scooters and meds, GP about forms, health insurance about god knows what—while my Pilates reformer, now downgraded to my food-and-drink table, stared back like a cruel reminder of what I can’t do. Two cups of tea have already been sacrificed by the kids and it’s only four o’clock. The uphill battle continues.
Life Goes On, and I Don’t
Everyone else has somewhere to be—training, work, life. Roles. Jobs. Purpose. And me? I’ve got nothing. I’m stuck here. Oh my god—someone’s taken the crutches again. Oh my god—the wheelchair too. Even my Marc Jacobs perfume has been “borrowed” and sprayed around like cheap body spray. Meanwhile, I’m here, trying not to trip over my own frustration.
The Outdoor Person Who Disappeared
My whole life has always been about pushing myself. Doing more. Being more. That’s who I like. That’s who I am. The outdoor person. The sports person. The one who loves being out in the world, moving. I had no warning. No ankle pain. No clue. And then suddenly—bang. This.
Podcast Realities and NBA Comparisons
Today I listened to my first podcast about recovering from surgery. Honestly, it was intense. I couldn’t even look at the visuals of how the operation is done. The timeline for recovery feels overwhelming. They mentioned an NBA player who went through the same injury—he even went off to do stem cell research. And here I am, lying in bed, wondering how my life turned upside down this quickly.
Raw, Real, and Ridiculous
I don’t want to sugarcoat today. I don’t want to make it funny (though the stolen perfume moment does make me chuckle a little). This is me right now. Frustrated, bored, aching, and very, very human.
Takeaways for Anyone Stuck in Recovery
- You are not alone: Feeling useless or frustrated is normal — it doesn’t mean you’ve failed.
- Celebrate tiny wins: Even moving a cup without spilling feels like progress.
- Laugh when you can: Sometimes all you can do is shake your head and laugh at the chaos.
- Your old self is still inside you: This version of “you” is temporary. Patience and small steps will get you there.
