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Return of The Crutches

This past weekend I started packing for my surgery and my stay in Montana. Because I'm going on a business trip for five days next week, I only have 13 days left before I leave Colorado.

So I pulled out my shoe puller-on-er, my long-handled loofah, my reacher. Then, from the depths of my closet, I pulled out The Crutches. Holding them in my hands, my heart absolutely sank. My eyes started to well up, and I was forced to put them back, lest I start crying like a baby. While my recovery was very straightforward and much easier than I expected, those crutches ... well, they suck. I hate 'em. They will remain in the closet until the day I leave town so I'm not reminded of how irritating it is to not have my hands (and my leg) free.

The rest I can pack ahead of time. But like an old boyfriend, The Crutches and I have too much history to just be hanging out.

Comments

Amanda said…
Oh, honey. I wish I had words of comfort for you, but there is none. Unlike an old boyfriend, you can pitch them forever once this surgery is done. Too bad you can't throw your old flames in the trash!

I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you and I'm already picking out new nail polish colors to send :)
-D. said…
Oh how I can relate to the strong emotions associated with the crutches. I just buried mine in the basement this past weekend after close to 15 weeks on them this year. Guess I'm telling you this so you know you're not alone. And yes, keep them in the closet for as long as possible!!! Hang in there, you know you can do this.

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