It's been awhile since I posted, and even longer since I posted about MG, who would say herself that she's reached a bit of a plateau - or at least what feels like a plateau - where change is incremental.
It's therapy and rest, therapy and rest. Even her therapist has said that she should probably shoot for about 45 minutes of activity, followed by 20 minutes of rest. The pain has been so persistent, that the thought now is that maybe MG was working too hard and needs to back off - which is hard for her, because that's not MG's personality.
If there is one phrase that runs throughout our home, that is common to myself and the kids, it's "In a minute." And it drives MG crazy. Whatever needs to be done, whenever someone is asked to do something, the answer seems to always be "in a minute" - which could mean a minute, or it could mean an hour, or a day, or never.
That's my influence, I'm afraid; I'm the procrastinator. MG is always the one that sees a task and says, "right now."
So for this new course of action to encourage inaction is difficult. Even as her therapist told her that they should back off some of the therapy (that includes sessions with a wonderful exercise physiologist), MG's fear was that she would run the risk of losing what progress she'd made.
On top of that all, we continue to find little injuries that we weren't aware of before. Whether these are injuries from the accident that seemed so incidental as to be overlooked initially, or maybe compensation injuries that occurred in the aftermath, the way walking with a limp can cause muscle damage because it's not a natural gait, we just don't know.
And the question that hangs over every day remains, "Is this the new normal?" I still don't believe it is, but then I may have been in denial since the morning of the accident, refusing from the beginning to believe everything would not, some day, be all right. So it's hard for me to accept that it might not be, even as doctors and therapists tell us that these injuries were so severe that it's almost certain there will be life-long consequences. The only question is, how serious, how debilitating will they be?
And how long will it take?
But along the way, we still stumble into unexpected blessings.
Shoes remain important (as I wrote about here, in "Hell on heels.")
As the weather started to get cooler, we needed MG was going to need something better than the sandals she's worn all summer. So we went to a local Academy Sports to buy some tennis shoes.
We found a pair and were trying to get them on over the orthotic, struggling. MG was starting to get emotional again because it wasn't working, and I realized we needed a shoe horn.
I went from aisle to aisle until I found this guy who worked in the shoe department, and asked him for a shoe horn. I could tell he was annoyed at first, looking at my feet because he thought it was for me. I said, "It's not for me, it's my wife - she's been in an accident and we're trying to find a shoe that will fit over this brace she wears." Still somewhat grudgingly, he came down to where MG was sitting ... and suddenly, just like that, his entire attitude changed.
He couldn't have been more helpful. It turns out, he once owned his own shoe repair place, so he was incredibly helpful. He had his own shoe horn, but more than that he looked immediately and saw we had the wrong width, what size we needed, which brand would work best, how we could take the inner sole out of one shoe and double it up in the other to even out the height of the shoe.
When MG walked in these shoes, her hips were even and her walk level. I could tell MG was so encouraged, if not excited. This man said the shoe horn he had was his own personal one, but he offered to give it to us (we didn't take it, but he did give us good direction on what kind we should get and how to find it). I can't tell you how what an encouragement this gentleman turned out to be and, I think, even he felt good about being able to provide a solution to a real problem. I hope he walked away feeling as blessed as we did.
Then .... one night, driving back to Birmingham, my sister and I were talking and she mentioned that she had a friend with drop foot who found she could wear a boot without a brace because the boot worked to keep her foot at a 90-degree angle, and wondered if that would work for MG.
I got home, and without even telling MG about that conversation, MG said she wanted to go shopping for some boots because she was worried about being cold. So we drove to - where else? - DSW.
As we walked in, I did feel a sense of dread. The last time here was so disappointing and discouraging. And I admit to being afraid.
And once inside we saw row after row of boots, and as first it seemed all of them had heels- mostly high, very stylish, and completely out of the question.
But we started looking. I found a flat boot, and MG tried it on. It kind of worked. I went looking for more options, and MG tried on another pair and then walked down the row to get a feel and look for more.
She came back with a pair of Ralph Lauren boots that I could tell she liked. We got them on - without the brace - and she started walking. I watched, admittedly holding my breath.
When MG turned to come back, she was smiling. The boots seemed to work. We sat down and I heard MG say, "Thank you Ralph Lauren."
I don't know what the trip to DSW did for MG - I can imagine - but I can't tell you how thankful I was to leave having made a purchase, to see MG smiling, to see her encouraged at yet another option for footwear!
Now, here's the deal. The tennis shoes are great. MG wears them all the time for her therapy and workouts, and around the house. The boots? Well, the reality is they may not work like we first hoped they would. They remain in her closet, and we'll see.
But what is important is the blessing that both shopping trips represented. It was "normal" - MG looked for shoes, tried some one, walked around in them, bought them and brought them home.
That sounds crazy, the kind of thing that most of us take for granted or - in the case of whoever is paying for the shoes - might even dread.
But among the many lessons we've been forced to recognize is to not take simple things for granted; in fact the very word "simple" becomes non-existent because so very few things are "simple" anymore.
Hopefully, we'll get there and one day simple things will be simple again.
But when?
Dare I say it may be ... "in a minute?"
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