Ever heard that before?
Let me back up.
Last December while on a walk with my baby Loki, my husband, my mother in law and brother in law (with his girlfriend) I managed to slip on flat (ice) ground and break my leg in three places.
I tell you what. I've not EVER had pain like that.
After I couldn't get surgery on it because it took so long for the ambulance to get to me (looong story but boy was it icy!) and had to wait and then had to live with the grandparents (which was awesome, don't get me wrong, but not MY house and not MY rules), I was at wit's end. Every month I thought "Oh, the next month will be okay; I'll be 100% better soon!"
Well, here we are, almost 7 months after and I have to say: It doesn't get better like how you see on the telly. It's a long, slow process, with setbacks, and the occasional reward just to keep you going. There aren't Disney endings for this sort of thing.
Like this week, for the first time since it happened, I don't have pain in my leg when I sit. It took me seven months to get here. I've learned from this, though.
Learned patience, and the fact that sometimes you have to just deal, and the fact that others WILL care for you if you let them. Also, little 1 year old babies and broken legs don't deal, and that I HATE being dependent on taking a pain pill just to function - but that they do sometimes help. I've also learned that depression can practically destroy a person, and keep her so frustrated and despairing that she'll turn on anybody and anyone to make it go away. But it won't.
I still have a ways to go, but at least I can mostly walk now. I can't wait to run, but thanks to my experiences throughout this thing I know it will take more time.
You can bet your farm these feelings and experiences will make it into one of my books someday.