Its been 9 months since they cut cancer out of my ankle. 9 months since my 14 hour surgery. 9 months.... I can't believe it. Sometimes I stop and am awed by this fact, by how much time has gone by, by how little time has gone by. Yet still its been 9 months. Physically, I'm healing. I'm proud of having been able to complete 2/3 of a triathlon. I'm amazed that I am training to run a half marathon less than a year after my surgery. These facts make me smile, but I hurt.
For 9 months I have been in pain all day every day, and I'm tired. My surgeon yesterday said this is the harder part of my recooperation. Geez, I figured out months ago. I can power through the physical part, sheer will and determination is getting me back into shape, but this pain is something else. There are mornings that I realize I'm awake when the pain kicks in, nights it wakes me up, evenings that I sit on the couch and won't move because I don't want to take a step. Yet...
My foot hurting means that I have a foot. The shooting pain in my foot and ankle means that the nerve graft took, and the nerve is regrowing. The aching pain in my arch may mean that some of my foot intrinsic muscles are coming back. My foot hurting means there is a chance that it'll recover completely, a chance that this will all become just a memory.
Still I can run again on this foot. I can ride my bike. I can do most of what I want to do. I can make this be OK. I just have to keep reminding myself.
On (the) Line Quilt
4 days ago