"Take 'em away
Take 'em away, Lord
Take away these chains from me
My heart is broken 'cause
my spirits not free
Lord, take away these chains from me."
This song has me smiling on this sunny Friday afternoon, even though I feel like I've been drug through hell and half of Georgia (as my stepfather is fond of saying).
What's taken away? My CRUTCHES! Gone, gone, fucking gone.
Two more weeks in a walking boot, and then I'm done with this for good. Except for, ya know, that metal that will always be in my ankle until the day I die. But I can WALK, and on Wednesday, my parents left again after driving me back here to DC, and I'm officially company-free. I have no one on the way here. I have no plans to go anywhere until Christmas. I have been on my own before, for a few days at a time, but this is it.
I'm better. Much, much better. The pain was horrific for about two weeks -- right up until Thanksgiving -- as I tried to re-learn walking. Then on Friday after Thanksgiving, it just...went away. I mean, it still hurts with nearly every step. Just a little bit. A little. Not the horrible "oh shit, what if I re-broke this ankle and didn't realize it?" pain.
I also have a lovely cold that seems to be working its way out my system very slooowly. I guess 3 months in virtual quarantine and then slammed with all TEN of my nieces and nephews in one weekend (one DAY) was not exactly a recipe for a fine immune system response. I gave it to my bff as a parting gift, and we've been calling each other to compare coughs everyday. I coughed and hacked through a presentation I gave via conference call to all the company VPs....impressive, I am certain!
I can walk. Things can't be too bad if I can do that.
I finally go into the office next week. I'm going to get dressed - every day! - and go be professional and leave my house every day. What a concept! I'm so ready.
Here goes nothing. And maybe everything.