Learning to Walk, One Step at a Time

Thursday, two days ago, was a pretty important day in my recovery; it was the day I took my first steps in about two months.  It wasn't unassisted, it wasn't easy, and it certainly wasn't graceful, but it was progress--one foot in front of the other--and it was a turning point for me in a lot of ways.
I have had a new therapist every time I've gone in to PT. This time, I got the lead therapist.  She is extremely nice, patient, and religious, and I needed all three.  The first thing we talked about was that I now had permission to bear weight on my leg. So, she immediately wanted me to get up on the crutches and walk--and I couldn't. I was terrified.  We talked for a few minutes. She explained to me that most of the weight would be on the crutches, and that she was certain I could do it. I asked her a million questions. How did she know I could do it? Was she sure my knee would hold? What if it didn't? What if I lost my balance? What if I fall? What if it hurts too much?  She answered all of my questions and assured me that I could do it, my knee would hold, she would have ahold of me so I wouldn't fall, and that it wasn't going to hurt too much. Finally, she said, "Can I pray for you?" Well, of course I said yes, and so she did.  And that definitely helped calm my nerves.  But... I was still apprehensive.  The last time I had taken a step was nine days after the initial accident, and that had been when I had blown my meniscus. That day, I had been told I could bear weight to toleration as well, and it didn't turn out that way. I needed to know I wasn't going to undo two months of work--I'm tired of starting over.
So, she decided to get out the walker. Which was definitely better than the unsteady crutches.  Even standing with as much weight as possible on the walker, however, I was still horrified that I was going to hurt myself. I stood there for a long time, just looking at my feet, trying to remember how I had done this millions of times before. Do you stop and think about it before you take a step? Of course not; you just do it.  It's all habit and nature for the vast majority of adults. Standing there pushing down on that walker, a belt around me, my calm therapist's reassuring voice in my ear, I fixed my eyes on my neon pink tennis shoes and willed my left foot to take a leap of fate and moved forward. It wouldn't budge....
Then she said, "It's just like Peter. What gave him the courage to step out on that water?  Jesus did. He's right here with you now, and He's telling you to have faith--you can do it. You will do it."
With that thought in my mind, I took a deep breath, and I picked up my foot.  And I ended up hopping. The first step wasn't really a step--but it was progress.  After that, though, I took one more step and then another and another. I walked about ten feet across the room and sat down in a chair where she directed me. It was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life--but I had done it. I had started the journey.

This really spoke to me today.  We may never know why we were required to fall before we could fly. Sometimes we just have to believe that His reasons are far greater than anything we can understand.

That session, she gave me a lot of weight bearing exercises to practice at home. I am also supposed to work on my stretches. She told me to practice walking three times a day, not very far, and only with my husband holding on to a belt around me.  I have walked a few times in the last couple of days, and I will tell you, every step is still terrifying. But I am learning to push past the fear, a little at a time. I'm learning to trust my body, to trust myself, and to have faith that the same person who allowed Peter to walk on water has His arms around me as well.
I'm still not able to completely straighten or bend my knee, but I am working on it each day, continuing to go through all of the exercises I've been given. It is difficult--it is mundane. It is sometimes painful, and it is always challenging.  There is nothing easy about any of this. And I can admit there have been times when I have felt like I am never going to walk again, that I can't do this anymore. I think this is pretty common; from what I have read from other people who have suffered this injury (or any injury, honestly) it is natural to feel pretty down at times.  Whenever I start to feel that way, I have to reach out to my friends and family. I'm lucky that so many people have rallied around me and shared words of encouragement just when I have needed them.
I understand my predicament could be a lot worse. I know this isn't cancer. It isn't losing a limb or being permanently disfigured or even permanently disabled.  I don't pretend that my journey is any more difficult or challenging than anyone else's, and I know so many people who have overcome so much more. But this has certainly been a struggle for me.  I have faith that, wherever I stand at the end of this journey, I will be standing, and that I will have gotten there through thousands, if not millions, of little steps, and hops, and jumps, and one giant leap of faith.