Just two weeks ago I was having a blast with my friend Nicole, who came to visit. It was the first "real" vacation I'd had in a few months, involving sand, sea green water, smoothies, and lots of inside jokes. I knew it would have to end sometime, but I had no idea I would feel so weird when she left. Her visit allowed me to temporarily put my scary future on the back burner. I'm done with college… Now what?
When you're used to writing 50-page papers and stressing about your thesis, doing basically nothing every day comes as a shock. I felt kind of useless, spending my days catching up on tedious housework, reading my favorite food blogs for hours, and filling my days with exercising and checking out new youth groups. I planned a new diet, quietly thought about past loves, and tried to motivate myself to get back into the kitchen. I also downloaded all the music I had could think of.
And then, last Friday I fell a little lower. I decided to do yoga at home, something I once had enjoyed and felt had changed my lifestyle in a very positive way. Although I wasn't necessarily feeling "sad," I chose to do a yoga for sadness workout on a site a friend had recommended. But as I curled up at the end of the session, on my side, pulling my legs to my chest, I felt the explosive pain I recognized all too well.
The doctors before never knew nor cared to figure out what was wrong with me. Surely it was some cartilage, or meniscus, or growing problem. At 13 it happened three times, and at 17 once more. But I thought it might not happen again, seeing as five years had gone by. I called a close friend, and she and her family came to take me to the hospital- I couldn't move my leg. For the next couple of days I hopped on my right leg to get everywhere. The pain was excruciating if I tried to straighten my leg at all; tolerable if I held it bent. They wanted to operate.
We (my friend and her family) decided to get a second opinion. On Sunday we left the house in the dreary weather to get my knee checked out. The doctor injected my knee with a huge needle to sedate it, then proceeded to straighten it a la fuerza.
If I thought I knew pain before, that was nothing compared to this. He wrapped almost my entire leg in a blue cast, and then sent me home.
For the past few days I've laid on the couch at my friend's house, being kindly taken care of my her family and wondering when this is going to end. I've asked a lot of the people around me, but am afraid to be alone. I can't go back to the states. I wonder when will I run again? What will I do? How do I make the decisions I need to?
I guess it's just one step at a time.
And try to find something to smile about :)