6 TBSP cocoa, 1/4 C butter, 1 C sugar, 1/2 tsp vanilla, 1/3 C flour, 2 eggs, Cook 350 - 25 mins.


Coming to terms...

My leg has 6 large screws in it and a 10 inch plate that will be there for the rest of my life. I have a plate from top of my tibia to the middle. I am in therapy 3 times a week and have a nurse coming over once a week. I'm now able to use crutches a little more but cannot put any weight on my leg until May. That is when my therapist thinks I'll be able to begin putting about 25 to 50% weight on it. Interesting. I'm shooting for full throttle walking by then.

I have a new appreciation for people who have broken their leg. It's not a quick fix. I always imagined that they hobble around and keep living their life as usual only with crutches. NOT! Hips and legs are in a whole other ballpark than say a sprained ankle. They are screwed together by human hands and stiffened with screws and plates. They are never the same. You are never the same. And for those who say a sprain is worse than a break. Bull! Breaks hurt worse and longer. NUF SAID!

I'm in this funk right now and it is very new to me. I'm not one to cry around and bring everyone down. I like to laugh and smile and make people laugh and smile. I like to be...well...the life of the party. This is new and unusual for me. I'm actually depressed. Here is what I keep thinking about myself...

"You as a person will never walk like you used to or run like you used to our even cross your legs the same. You are different."

THAT is a huge pill to swallow. People who are in car accidents or come home from war with injuries are different. We think that as long as there were no deaths all is well with the world but in reality there were casualties if there were injuries. Injuries hurt, change and scar the psyche. It takes a toll on one's nerves and forces some introflection. It's a loss of what we knew ourselves to be and a scary road wondering what we are now. Not knowing oneself is scary. The journey to figure out who we are now is scary. I don't know if I'll hobble or walk fine and dandy but what I do know is it won't be the same. I am different and I don't like that. I don't want that. I didn't get to choose that. I want to be me with MY walk and MY own unfooled-around-with leg.

It's hard to feel this way. I want to just get this over with and move on. But I can't. Not yet. I HAVE to wait...for months. Yep, I know there are people worse off than me. That somehow makes me feel worse. I cry for the people who lose their legs, I cry for people in war, I cry for people who are changed at all for any reason.

The good thing I can hold onto is this.

"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

I want that to be true. I'm hanging my hat on that. I will help someone because of this mess. I'm already seeing my children stronger because of it. I am so proud of them and their leadership qualities that are shining right now.

Life is good. Life is great. It just gets messy sometimes. I know that's what makes it worth living but, man! Getting through the changes is a bugger don't ya think?

I just can't believe my life! :-)

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