I had this problem before, but never to the point that I was sent back with crutches. Oh, and two different support belts to take the weight of my bump. So that's part of why I've been off the radar for a few days: I had the appointment to go see my physiotherapist and then spent the next few days trying to take it easy, adjust our normal routine, and get used to hobbling around with my snazzy new medical gear.
E has already connected the dots about these newfangled metal sticks that migrate all over the house with me:
From E today: "Mama crutches...walking...stop owies." Well, he's got the basics of it down. Not bad after 5 days. #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) November 18, 2013
I've explained it pretty well if he got all of that in just a couple of days. That, or he's just really smart. Of course, complimenting your own kid always comes off as a roundabout way of complimenting yourself, so there's a slightly narcissistic element to it however you slice it.
I have to admit, I didn't appreciate just how reluctant I was to get crutches until I was walking through the hospital car park last week. In my mind, everyone I passed would catch sight of the bump and the crutches, see no plaster cast or obvious injury, and judge me just a little. I hated the feeling that I somehow had to justify my crutches to everyone who gave me a passing glance: "I swear! My physiotherapist said I should take them! My joints have moved so far apart that I'm not supposed to do much walking! I really do need these: they make everything hurt less!"
Today, E and I headed out to run 2 very short errands. Even knowing that overextending myself during the day means losing sleep from pain during the night, I almost felt bad when the lovely assistant at the bank offered to take me out of the queue, watch E, and coach me through using a machine to complete my transaction that much faster. Perhaps my years of attempting to overcome my hypochondriac tendencies have made me the sort of person who can't admit to needing help until I'm bleeding from the ears or missing a limb, but I hated the idea of taking advantage of someone's solicitousness if I was still perfectly capable of standing in the queue.
So now, I'm keeping us closer to home, using the car more often, and trying to take life as easily as I can for the rest of the year. I don't do well with not being busy, but I know there are a lot of things I need to avoid if I'm not just going to make things harder on myself...at least I have some creative solutions to avoid standing too much while I make Thanksgiving dinner next week!