December 11, 2012
Guiliana’s
birthday..wahoo!
Crutching along with my
preoccupied heart on my sleeve, chic burnt orange wallet-sized purse strapped
crosswise along my body as I made my preoccupied way to the muddled physical
therapist’s office. Once there, I slanted my burdensome crutches to the side of
the unsteady plastic deck chair and stood far lighter than just the moment
before. Discovered the weight I was carrying under my armpits was transferred
to my heart. I become conscious of concern, worry about my unarguably swollen
foot and seemingly lack of rapid healing progress in accomplishing a normal
gait proved heavy on my mind. As the questions and responses batted back and
forth with the physical therapist my apparent relief made me giddy. I knew
what I felt to be true was, yet took on the concern of others as my own. It is
so subtle and sneaky, undetected and controlling, manipulative and sly.
What else disturbs my
laughter? Taelor and all that disquiet entails, upcoming temporary (!) nesting
locale, prospective work, ample finances, locate pragmatic vipassana centers and secure travel plans.
Each of these
challenges show up like the hated crutches. Issues I weigh upon yet have absolutely
no control over at this moment and clearly prevent me from enjoying the warm
brilliant sunshine of the day, the screeches of the kids in the fun-filled pool
below, the sip of rich coffee with creamy milk and granules of sweet sugar,
sincere disjointed conversation with Ju, soothing flow of familiar words on an
intriguing paperback. Time to toss them all with abandon and saunter freely on
my own fruition. I don’t want or need any of these intense and perhaps
insignificant qualms on my journey. Taelor has the courage and umpteen skills
to manage her own life.
Grannies shared the
waiting room with me made up as though they were attending a fancy dress party.
Glittery floral flowing tops with matching stretch pants, big hair and sensible
shoes at the other end. Thrashing about on the massage tables with well-cooked under
arms flapping and plastered smiles despite the burning pain and whisper “Tchau”
as they scooted out the door. Obvious sprained ankles, broken arms, stiff
shoulders, recent operated knees, hobbling and secured limbs solicit gratitude.
I wait patiently much lighter, reading Vega Magazine and observe the pt going
on around me. One largish room packed with various apparatus and stretching
equipment house numerous patients at once. Everyone seems to know most of their
routine and pay as they leave after setting up the next session with the
receptionist/cashier/physical therapist/masseur. I take note of the ankle
injured clients and glom new exercises from their routine. Opportunist to be
sure!
After much research I
conclude the fabulous airline deal is …well, not sooo amazing after all. Need
to catch two buses to get to the isolated airport for the not-so-familiar
airlines. Considering the bus line would be an eleven hour trip and about $90
less, it is worth the time and hassle for the flight. Now how to haul the luggage
on crutches or a preferred cane…hm. The Plan “D” is to leave on Saturday…unless…
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