Almost every day I’m able to find something to celebrate. This week I:
- started walking with one crutch
- drove myself to work for the first time since May
- went down the stairs to the basement
- drove to the velodrome to watch some racing
- rode in the big ring (briefly!) on the trainer, then took a shower (also first since May)
The downside is that there is always an excuse to open a bottle of wine in celebration. The recycling bin is getting pretty full with empties.
Joking aside, it occurred to me that we shouldn’t need a traumatic experience to find a reason to celebrate — every day. All these little things that you can do, every day, you don’t fully appreciate until you can’t do them.
I suppose it really is like the Joni Mitchell lyric: “you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone.” Maybe that is unavoidable. Maybe once I’m fully functional it will all feel different.
Then again I will always have this “zipper” going up the side of my leg, and the hunk of steel on the other side of it, to remind me.