This blog tells the story of my healing quest after two total reconstructive foot and ankle surgeries, visits to numerous physicians and specialists to sort through a maze of mis-information and diagnosis', until one physician finally listened to my complete story and did something proactive to change the course of my life. Perhaps, even more important, it's about the patient physician relationship and allowing the patient to tell their story so they can heal.
I wonder, is it all good, really? I'm quickly reminded by friends and family even strangers, from time to time that it is. I take inventory of where I'm at: walking more on my walker, working, celebrating my progress one day at a time, loving my family and, well, living. Where is the proverbial measurement of all being good in the world? Yes, attitude is an essential ingredient when it is my world (or yours) that is evaluated, but still the desire for more of where we are in life evokes great introspection. We each have heard someone's story of suffering, loss, pain, and walked away counting our blessings. Did it feel all good then? I'm not so sure; grateful perhaps, but not necessarily good.
The holidays arrive and reflection stirs the conscience to articulate before family those things we are truly thankful for. The sermons at the dinner table usually suggest all is good or we are praying for better outcomes of circumstances. But in my Italian family, storytelling is a "one up" occasion; done between raising our glasses and voices to get our opinions across. After much mocking, there is love and indigestion that fills the air and our bellies. My mother reminds us all of the great difficulty and days it takes to prepare meals that bring our families together. On the heels on Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for Skype and, of course, one another.
Yesterday, I made my first lap around the office with my walker. This is a long awaited transition from wheelchair to walker, after seven months free from the external fixators that fused my ankles. I got up from my desk and decided today I would make the journey down the hallway. My heart pounded as I rounded the corner, legs heavy with each step, beads of sweat glistening (sounds better), and laughing with tremendous nervousness. But I safely made it back to my desk thinking all is good. That's right, I celebrated the moment that all was going right in my world, that my healing was headed in the right direction however long it takes before I'm whole. I suppose this definition of whole translates to walking for me, but today I felt whole, encouraged and energized by my first lap. Yes, it's all good wherever we are in life; we just have to decide that it is.