The View From My Walker

This broken-hip business has its challenges. That’s for sure. Having never broken a hip before, I didn’t know what to expect. Having never relied on a walker before, has been an adjustment in itself.

Some random things I’ve observed so far, is the fact the world I live in is definitely not designed for people with physical needs that deviate from the perceived norm. Take for instance the doorways in our 1969-built home. Some are not wide enough to allow a walker to pass through without turning the thing this way and that.

I’ve never needed to use a handicapped stall in a public restroom before, and I know there are times when able-bodied individuals use them. I understand there are exceptions to everything, however, after being on this side of the stall, I plead with you, don’t use it if you don’t need to. You never know when a person will come into the restroom who has no choice, but to use that stall you’re occupying.

And…why are handicapped stalls placed at the far end of the restroom, anyway?

Doors are heavy, and trying to open one when you don’t have use of both hands can be daunting, if not impossible. I’m thinking all doors should have automatic handicapped buttons to open them. The common courtesy gesture of holding a door open for others, is also welcomed.

Some people in the public are sympathetic, and offer assistance. They are to be applauded. Others speed past, as if being on a walker is something they’re afraid they might catch.

Don’t be that person.

I’ve always admired people who adjusted to their limitations, and didn’t allow those limitations to hold them back. While I’m learning to be creative in managing my way through this set-back, I am daily reminded our strength comes from Jesus, and him alone. We can do nothing on our own.

Jesus is the Lifter of our Head when things just aren’t going well. (Like Pilot coming down with the flu mere days after we arrived home.) He’s the Great Physician who heals our bodies in His perfect timing. (Allowing Pilot’s virus to be short-lived.) He is the Master Planner who prompted our neighbor to make extra beef and vegetable soup for us. (While Pilot was too sick to cook, and I was unable to.) Thanks, Marsha!

Family and friends who come along side us, and help carry our burden, whatever that burden may be, are true blessings. Don’t you agree? I am sooo grateful for each of them, but there is nobody greater than our Lord Jesus. He is our ultimate help.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

I wish you well.


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Not What I Expected

Back-tracking a bit, I’d like to tell you how I spent the last day of November, and the first day of December 2013. If you read my November 12, 2013 post, then you know I began November with my 60th birthday. What few of you know is, I ended November 2013 with a fractured hip.

Not even 30 days after my birthday, for goodness sake, and I’m lying in a Tallahassee, Florida gas station parking lot with a broken hip.

Let’s just say the fall was not my fault. It wasn’t really Bear’s fault, either. I’d have to say leather shoes that have absolutely no traction on their sole were the culprit.

Five hours after the fall, where I was sure it was a really bad groin pull not a broken hip, I was in the Mayo Clinic’s emergency room in Waycross, Georgia. A couple hours later after multiple x-rays and CT scans, I was transported to a room.

I was prepped for the emergency surgery which would take place the next morning. Not what Pilot and I envisioned when we left our home the day after Thanksgiving for the two-day drive to Georgia to visit Mom for a few days. Felt more like the castaways of Gilligan’s Island and their three-hour-tour.

Although I prayed to God  my hip wasn’t  broken the instant I landed on it, God hadn’t forgotten me. He went before me and leveled mountains and filled in valleys. He prepared the hospital for my arrival. He put in place a caring, thoughtful, wonderful staff. Because it was the weekend after Thanksgiving, I didn’t have to wait for a slot to open for my surgery.

Initially, I was told I’d have to stay in Georgia for twenty-one days for rehab before being allowed to return home.

That changed when I mentioned to the surgeon we drove our full-sized van (something we rarely do) and promised to stay on the couch at the back for the ride home.

We’d take as long as necessary.

I’d stop every two hours and move around to avoid blood clots.

Whatever it took. I wanted to go home. Now.

Because God is not bound by time like we are, He knew before I was born I’d fall in Tallahassee and break my hip.

He even knew the exact spot where I’d land. He prepared me for the fall by giving me the most amazing husband to care for me throughout the whole ordeal.

He gave me the strength to bounce back fast enough to leave the hospital two days after the surgery that placed three screws in my left femur.

He created me with enough upper body strength to maneuver on the walker until I can transition to a cane. God made a way to bring me home three days after the surgery by having us take our van.

While in the hospital God gave me opportunities to have conversations with my nurses about Him. Often, while I was sitting on the bedpan or bedside commode. Yes. I know.

Right before I left the hospital, one nurse reminded me God gives us the strength ahead of time for everything we will endure. We just have to use that strength when times get rough, and not give up.

So, if you’re in a tough spot right now remember, God’s already given you the strength you’ll need to get through whatever you face.

He hears us before we even ask, and is already working things out. Don’t give up. Use that strength. Call out to Him.

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I will answer them before they even call to me. While they are still talking to me about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers! Isaiah 65:24 (TLB)

I wish you well.


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