Entry 4: The Wobbly Goddess of Mobility

After a few weeks of healing at home, my bags are packed and I am headed to suburbia for an intervention at Mom’s. Healing in the comfort of my mother’s condo with A/C, outdoor pool and loads of loving care from the mother of all moms, my heart and respect go out to all caregivers. Caregiving is not an easy job, that’s for sure.

Mamma has made a Costco order for all my favorite snacks. A fridge full of figs, cherries, mangoes and fancy salads! Plus home cooked meals. A package had arrived including my transport chair / wheelchair, crutches and walking canes.

I made sure to order three canes in different colors since soon enough they will have to match my work outfits once I’m back at the office. I am so looking forward to going back to an office filled with people.

The first few days convalescing here are amazing. The A/C is blasting inside my veins, the dining room has become my new office and I have a one-cup fancy coffee machine at my disposal.

As content and well cared for as I feel, it doesn’t take long for me to go stir-crazy and I suspect that the walls of the condo are getting tired of hearing me sing and talk to myself out loud.

As an extrovert people-person, I need to re-fuel from people’s energy. Plus, I am watching too much TV. I know way too much about Real Housewives, pulled my hair out yelling at the Kardashians, and can barely believe I’ve watched Jerry. These are definitely not my normal circumstances. Normally the only thing I watch on TV is my dose of morning news.

Saturday rolls around and I decide to take a midday break to sit by the pool in hopes that maybe sticking my foot in the pool will help. My physiotherapist said it shouldn’t be a problem. Since this is my first adventure out all-alone without a caregiver, I need to over prepare just in case.

I pack a beach bag with snacks, a good read, towel and the access pool key. I’m all ready to go wearing my Marilyn Monroe bathing suit, wrap and a floppy sun hat. I lift the bag onto my shoulder and wobble as I gain my composure and balance on crutches. I’m already schvitzing. I make my way ever so slowly to the elevator and down to the lobby. Success!

I exit the building to the communal pool area that seems miles away. I am moving so carefully and slowly as I trek by the group of ladies sitting out front, outraced by most of these condo owners that are accompanied by their walkers, canes and caregivers.

I hobble past an elderly man who takes a seat on the bench to enjoy his view… of me struggling with my beach bag watching my every step. He smiles at me The Entire Time as I’m schvitzing, fussing with my bag, trying not to trip over my flip flops. I’m so exhausted and so embarrassed by the spectacle I’ve become that I pull my sun hat a little lower to avoid eye contact.

Just as I reach the entrance to the pool, Mr. Curious hollars in a thick European accent, “chello young lady, you vanna swvim?” I politely smile and nod yes. “Oh,” he says, “the pool, she closes from noon to vone, hehe.”

All I can do is tilt my head back up to the sky and belt out, in true Julie style, a loud belly laugh-out-loud! Of course “she” does!

I pirouette around and back up I go to the safe compound I call the condo. Thanks sir! Thanks for telling me at the last possible minute, after watching me wobble for what felt like an hour. At least he got front row seats to The Wobbling Goddess.

Follow the recovery antics of Julie Wajcman as she attempts to heal her foot while continuing to get on with life. Wajcman is not an athlete but rather has athletic tendencies. In addition to blogging about her recently sustained injury, she is a national corporate development manager for a non-profit organization and actively volunteers her time to important causes in her community.