I Pity the Fool

My arms felt chilled in the cool hospital room. Daddy sat in one corner, playing around on his cell phone as usual. He had his cute English driving cap on and I couldn't help but grin when I thought about how adorable he was. I think men go through cute phases: When they are little boys, there is no denying the severity of their charm. Teenagers and young adults have absolutely no cuteness to them. It's as if the switch has been turned off. Then they have their own children and a glimmer of cuteness sparks in their eye, but it is soon lost. The good news is it returns. After retirement, men start to shuffle their feet a little more. They don't care about whether their shirt matches their socks. They put on a driving cap and voila! Cuteness is here.
 

Back to the doctor's office.

"Why did you bring your iPad with you," I asked him.

"To watch a movie," came his response.

"What do you have on there?"

He pulled up the screen. Great movies met my eyes: Jurassic Park, The Incredibles, Gidget... and there it was. The moment I saw it, I knew that was what we would watch. Rocket Power. The show that encouraged my passion for boarding.

Halfway through the cartoon, the door opened and in walked the doctor. Once a football player, he stood tall with fantastic posture and sophisticated greying hair. He seemed to know nothing about my reason for visiting. Dad and I filled him in on the details and he took a thorough look at the mobility of my right foot. He then explained to me that the surgery should have been done immediately after my accident. Since my doctor in California missed the ruptured tendon originally and a month had passed since my accident, my mobility would never be the same.

I had woken up that morning ready for action. The evening before, I had cleaned and prepared. Books lined the second half of my bed in order of importance, as if they were my snuggle buddy. Anything and everything I could possibly need while on bedrest was set into place. I did what I thought would be my last Pilates workout that morning and cleaned my car out. I was ready for this surgery.

"Since it has already been so long," the doctor started. "There is no need to rush the surgery since your leg will never be 100% again. Your chances of being able to run and compete again are very slim. What is your best event?"

"The run," I choked out.

His lips curled into a twisted expression. "I was hoping you would say the swim. It is very unlikely that you will be able to compete at the same level again. You may lose your ability to run. Depending on how far the tendon has separated, I may have to take some of another tendon in order to reattach the anterior tibialis."

I smiled and shook it off, but inside my heart was ripping with every word he spoke. It felt like my one true love was being wretched out of my finger tips. As if I had given birth to this amazing, precious talent and that beautiful thing was jerked out of my hands, dangled in front of me just out of reach then thrown on the ground and demolished.

Looking back, I am proud at the way I held myself together during the appointment. Once I walked into the waiting room though, I pulled out my phone and Facebooked Josh: "I need you here". I thought about all of the people I would have to tell the news to. My entire being wanted to crawl up in the hospital corner behind the coffee cart and cry and cuss. For some reason, saying the F word seemed like it might fix something. The corner was not available to me though and my mom soon pulled up in her car. I got in and lost it... slowly the tears came. My parents had errands to run and breakfast plans. I had a date with my pillow; pillows don't mind when you soak them with tears. Instead of allowing myself to wallow in self-pity, I went along with my parents for an organic meal and a cup of coffee. Coffee makes everything better, this I know to be true. It wasn't even a good cup of coffee, but as the liquid began to disappear, so did my tears.

I will get through this. No one has ever been able to tell me no. I know I can do this and get back to my life stronger than I was before. Drive and determination and dedication: These traits are all important to me. Watch out, Ironman New Zealand, Western States 100 and Nationals... I'm coming for you all... just not as soon as I had intended.

Thank you for all of the kind words of encouragement, the prayers and the compliments you have all been showering upon me. I appreciate you all. And thank you to my lovely Nani for my first care package. 

Thank you, Nani!