The Haps (& The Hobbles)
So many people have been incredibly supportive of me in my fundraiser for Camp Kesem over the last several months; I feel like I owe you some sort of explanation.
The thing is this:
I’m in a lot of pain, and it’s wearing on me. I haven’t been able to run in over a month; I’m back and forth between doctors and Physical Therapy; I’m hovering over some breaking point, and if I lose the slightest bit of altitude the bounce of the air when I catch myself may break me, but I’m not ready to admit I’m out for LA Marathon.
I had a hard time admitting I was out for San Francisco, and I was still on crutches for over two weeks AFTER the race. But this is different. Because I’m not on crutches. Because I feel like I should be better by now. Because I don’t understand why I’m experiencing so much pain related to an injury that was in June. I don’t understand how I completed the Santa Barbara Half Marathon in less than two hours in November and here we are in February and driving my car makes me want to cry. Okay, some days it does make me cry. What of it?
The other day I was with my Physical Therapist and he said that sometimes things get worse before they get better but that, at a certain point, we had to start looking at other things.
Today I called him in tears and asked when that point was.
I guess now it’s tomorrow. I’m going to my primary care physician in the morning because I am experiencing loss of sensation in my left leg from the knee to ankle. That’s my good leg. After that, I’ll go back to the Orthopedic Specialist who gave me a Peroneal Tendonitis diagnosis to see what he says about my right ankle. I’ll let him know the original Ortho I saw finally sent me a diagnosis of an injured Peroneal Nerve.
It’s taking a toll on me, emotionally, to be in pain so often, to be unable to run a race with a team I started for an organization I love. I feel like a failure, a quitter; I feel weak. I’m good at a lot of things and asking for help isn’t one of them, though I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do.
But maybe if you see me, don’t ask how I’m doing because I hate lying and every time I talk about it, I cry.
