Since my last visit to Huntington Memorial Hospital’s Surgical Unit for vascular bypass surgery in my right leg, I have been pushing myself to regain the use of that leg. I have made my way through the “walker” days and I am now onto using a cane.
While the fashion options on the walker are non-existent, with the exception of with or without tennis balls on the bottom, I was surprised at the array of designs and colors available in the cane arena. The choice was tough, but I opted for a black and fatigue camouflage model. My hope was that it would be invisible or at least not as noticeable. I don’t exactly know what I was thinking, but I really need to talk to my surgeon about the meds he’s prescribing me. I think they are causing me to be a tad delusional.
In the last week or so, I have progressed to the point of being able to hobble around the house on my own. At this rate, I think I should be able to walk “normally” by next week, just in time to have my left leg done and then I will be back to square one again. Yeah, I am so digging 2010. I wish it would just go on forever.
When I venture out in public and have to walk any distance, like going to Sam’s Club for example, my little aluminum and rubber friend goes with me. It slows me down and is a pain in the ass for me to use, but the alternative, lying around doing nothing, is worse.
My wife Stacey and I have ventured out a couple of times over the last couple of weeks and during one of our last trips she came up with the following epiphany, “People seem to treat you better when you are using a cane.”
I hadn’t noticed. To be honest, at that point my focus was on just maneuvering, but she had planted the seed. On subsequent jaunts I started paying more attention and began to think that her assessment was right.
I personally have always been one of those people who relinquish the right of way and hold open the door for others, regardless of the hardware they may or may not be sporting. I have never been the type that felt compelled to push and rush my way around people when out and about. My train of thought has always been that my time is not any more valuable than the next guy. Sadly, this sentiment is not universally shared.
As a matter of fact, as the holidays have drawn closer, the shiny star at the top of the tree of courtesy towards the “poor guy” with the cane has tarnished. The need to get those presents as fast as possible took precedence over manners and my camouflaged cane achieved my delusional fantasy of being invisible.
My vision of my fellow man, during what is supposed to be “the season of caring and good will towards man”, has blurred. My irritation has me imagining different scenarios of how to use my cane as a weapon. I want to punish the rude and obnoxious evil elves that are sucking out all of my holiday cheer. I even started composing a letter to Santa asking him for a new cane that had a sword or a dagger attached to the handle and concealed inside the body.
Then it struck me. Why should I sink to their level? I would not allow any group of people, especially the rude, to deprive me of my favorite time of year. My holiday spirit was too hard to reach this year to have it extinguished by people I wouldn’t give a broken ornament to.
Without knowing it, these holiday hooligans have given me a gift. They have inadvertently strengthened my resolve to make this holiday the best one yet. They did this despite the fact that all indications point to me waking up on Christmas morning in a hospital room instead of my own bed for the first time, and hopefully the last time, in my life.
If you haven’t already, I hope you too can find the joy of the season even if you have to do it one step at a time. Happy Holidays to all!
