Yesterday I had a melt down. It was a long time coming. In fact, I had been waiting and hoping for it for weeks, like a great cleansing, a wave washing over me. It wasn't anything like it, just exhausting and snotty.
Earlier I had spent two hours with the orthopedic surgeon who will take over the recovery treatment now that I am back in the German health system. Everything looks as it should be, I am still walking with the moon boot, for another week when the screw inside my ankle joint will be removed. He had me walking a short distance without the boot and well, it's not what I call walking. Neither the foot nor the leg seem to be aware of what is required. Yet. All around me smiled reassuringly and there will be a physio plan and give it time and muscle building and more give it time and so on and I smiled too and then we had a coffee at the French place and when we got home, I started to sob like a baby for a good while.
I am all over the place with conflicting feelings. One the one hand, I want to concentrate on getting my mobility back, working hard at it with all that I can, while on the other hand, I want to lose myself in this summer, the colours, the sounds, the changes, so fast, so dramatic. No thinking, no pressure, no expectations. All that give it time stuff. How does it work?
The garden is a joy as always at this time of the year. I watch it from a shy distance, not able to pick the strawberries, harvest the sweet peas. This morning's gift, a first tender kohlrabi.
The best outcome so far has been the amount of reading I have done. Still do. Currently, I am racing through London Falling by Patrick Radden Keefe, as recommended by all everywhere.
Also, we are watching Legends on Netflix, hooked. I am a sucker for a good Liverpool accent anyday.