Dressed for the Part

I was going to say that, in my present condition, I walk a fine line. . . .

The fact is that, in my present condition, I do not walk fine lines. I have had hip surgery. I walk a stuttered line.

The hospital apparently chain-sawed a delicate incision up my right hip, did unspeakable things to my framework, stapled the incision, sold me a cane, and sent me home. They advised that I rent a walker, unless I thought I might have long-term plans, in which case I should buy one.

Owning an adjustable cane, and renting a walker, does something dreadful to one's psyche. Prescribing modest pain killers does more than modestly restructure the pain: it obscures all the sharp edges of perception, sands down the details. Somewhere, some time ago, I got a pair of what might be called "trousers", or probably--better--pajama bottoms. They are made of paper, just like the academic gowns graduates now rent and throw away after the rain. They are no so much something to wear as they are a way an identification. Were they orange, instead of light green or blue, or whatever they are, people would assume I had escaped from the crew that is picking up trash along the freeway, and that I ought to be returned to incarceration.

Somebody, probably a lot of somebodies, have designed a generic aluminum cane, with little snap buttons and rubber tips; even a little twisty "lock it right there" ring. It is the ultimately personalized badge of incapacity. "Ahh, poor lame thing! Here, let me get that door for you!"

Today I have put on my blue jeans and a button-up shirt, not because I am about to play softball, again--because I did not play softball before, either--but because something inside me protested that I was wearing the wrong costume; the wrong uniform. My psyche was protesting that--stuttering though I step--I wanted to reclaim my place as a somewhat normal human being.

I am glad, now, two weeks after my structural overhaul, to be up more than down, to be moving better, and to be dressed for the part.

Nice to see you, again!

Comments

Nice to Run Into You Again

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SmokeSound

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