Yesterday marked the nine month point since my hamstring surgery. (ha. Mis-typed that ham “strong.” Can your keyboard cause a Freudian slip?) I had an appointment with the surgeon. Shared that I still seem to have hip weakness from the brace, but I have recently found a new exercise to address this. Since I am no longer going to Physical Therapy I said, “I referred myself to myself.” He was okay with that since:
a. I have some expertise in exercise and
b. I am something of an expert on myself.
He told me that I need to set some goals for my recovery/rehab since one can expect improvement up to 9 months to a year. I am not sure whether he was giving me a 3 month extension or says this to everyone but I’m going with it. Three months to get back to as good as I’m going to get. And, as Stephanie says, “I’m not a quitter.” So, diligence is the name of the game from now until April the 26th.
But, I have no more appointments with the doctor. I am on my own. His job is done.
So, as I drove out of the hospital campus my eyes were drawn to the emergency entrance. There, 9 months ago, Olivia wheeled me in, leg throbbing. Little did I know what was ahead. Today, I drove out a free woman. Newly born, after 9 months. (I told Dr. Miyamoto we should be having a baby and I think I embarrassed him.)
I found myself praying as I eased the Honda over the speed bumps on my way to the open road:
“Lord, I pray that I have fully learned what you intended for me in this time. That I have been changed in your direction. You have sewn humility and gratitude. You have shown me the fallacy of taking, even what we do well, too seriously and wearing it ungraciously. These nine months have changed me. I pray that change will take a firm hold and bring life anew to whatever you’re doing in me. Thank you for giving me New Life.”