Gone too soon…

A few weeks ago, Ben and I went to the movies. The theater rooms at this theater are on the 2nd floor. We bought our tickets and took the elevator to the 2nd floor. I haven’t taken an escalator yet b/c they move too fast for me and since my pace is still not up to “normal” speed, it’s very scary, to say the least. When the movie was over, we exited the theater and made our way over to the escalator. It was a little slow when we took it up, but after about 5 minutes of waiting and not hearing any sounds of movement, I told Ben that I thought the elevator was either broken or had been turned off. Ben went to look for someone to help us. We had seen one of the last showings so the staff was a little light. He found a concessions guy and he went to check to see if it had been stuck on the third floor. Fast forward – he checked, a security guard checked, and it was concluded that I wouldn’t be able to take the elevator. We still weren’t sure why, but no matter. OK…well, now what. So…the security guard asks me..Can we help you get on the escalator? I said…mmm…I don’t know. We can help you..it’ll be ok. Well, I’m not so sure about that. I have prosthetics, so I don’t know… I think up until that point they were just thinking…Can’t this girl with crutches just step onto the escalator and then ride it down? It would only be 2 steps that she would have to take. Why does she HAVE to take the elevator?!? But then once I lifted my pants, it was a game changer. Now I’ve got 3 people helping me and making sure I was ok. Yea, ok…thanks. Like I’ve said before…different levels of handicappedness (I don’t think it’s a real word…) garner different levels of help and sympathy. What they ended up doing was turning off the escalator so that I could step onto it, turning it back on once I stepped onto it, and then turning it back off so that I could step off once we reached the bottom. There is a big jolt once the escalator is turned back on and both myself and Ben were unprepared for it. I didn’t fall or anything, but I did grab on and let out a little woah! To which point the manager, who was standing on the step behind me, felt the need to grab the waistband of my sweats and proceed to pull my pants and underwear all the way up into my ass. Um, thanks. She also felt the need to hold onto them during the entire ride down and until I stepped off the escalator. Lovely. So, that was an experience.
About a week after that, I went prom dress shopping with my little cousin (My cousin’s (Annie) daughter – your name made it into a blog…happy? =)). We were at the last boutique for the day and there was a little bit of a wait before it was our turn to be helped. The shop had a little waiting/seating area and when the ladies that were already seated saw that I had crutches, they waved me over to sit down. I hobbled myself over and plopped myself down on the couch. There were 2 older ladies to the right of me and a mother with her 2 teenage daughters to the left of me. Right after I sat down, one of the older ladies said to me, “What happened? Did you break your leg?” I smirked to myself and for a hot second, thought about what to say to them. I didn’t want to be too harsh since there were the 2 younger girls to the left of me, but then I thought, but there really isn’t a “gentle” way to explain what happened. This was also the first time, outside of being at a doctor’s office or at A Step Ahead, that someone has asked me what happened, let alone ask if I had broken my leg. So I just came out and said, “Actually….no, I was run over by the 7 train.” Boom. Just like that. I said it very matter of factly. I think right after I said it all of their eyes popped out of their heads, both shocked and unsure if I was serious. I think the lady said something along the lines of…What? The 7 train? Like the one at Grand Central? I said…Yup. That’s where it happened, actually, at Grand Central. They then proceeded to ask me a few questions, which I answered. They weren’t prying, just general “follow-up” questions, I guess. I think they felt OK asking since I sort of dropped that bit of info on them pretty openly…which was fine with me. Always better to inquire nicely, then stare rudely. Sometimes, life just sucks. A couple of weeks ago, my PT at my prosthetic facility suffered a massive stroke and then fell into a coma. He passed away this past Monday, after being in a coma for two weeks. He was an amazing man. Sweet, funny, smart, kicked my ass every time I had a session with him, and always pushed me to accomplish things that I didn’t even know I could. He’s the reason I’m able to walk on my prosthesis. This should not have happened to him. The selfish part of me is upset that he’e no longer here to help me in this journey. I was supposed to have at least 10 years with him…Although we only had a short time together, he did so much for me and was a big part of my recovery. Phil, you will be missed. Thank you for all that you did for me.
I’ve got my surgery this Friday, 3/20. Yikes. I’m not nervous for the surgery itself, per se, but scared that the surgery might not be successful and that the outcome doesn’t turn out to be what we’re expecting or hoping for. I’m also worried that I’ll need more skin grafting, which the docs won’t even know if I’ll need into I’m in the OR. I’m petrified to wake up after surgery and be in excruciating pain because I’m had yet another skin graft. Back in the Bellevue days, I was in soooo much pain the first couple of weeks, if anyone grazed my bed or made even the slightest movement around my bed, I cringed. I’m not looking forward to potentially waking up with a catheter inserted in me or a slew of other unknowns…. T-5 days…I’m also not looking forward to being fully wheelchair bound again for 4-6 weeks. I’ll be accepting visitors while I’m recovering!…both at the hospital and once I’m home. =)

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