So this random lady walks into a bar...
No, this isn't the beginning of another one of those corny dad jokes. And, I guess technically it wasn't a bar, but a local Italian restaurant/martini bar.
But this random lady did walk in... and started right in excitedly talking to me (as I was standing there by myself, minding my own business while a table was prepared for me and my friend, who hadn't yet arrived.)
Hi! How are you?! So - what's going on here? (gestures up and down at me with both hands) Did you hurt yourself? Are you okay? What happened? (she, looking 100% invested in me and whatever it is I've got going on here. Never mind the actual reason she burst through the door... presumably, I mean, to eat.)
Oh, it's just the way it is for me. (me, trying to give her a quick answer so she'll just leave me alone.)
But then she had more questions. Was I born like this? What do I have? What's that mean? And me, seeing that I'm not going to get rid of her anytime soon, telling her how I have Spina Bifida, how I used to walk with a walking stick, and when I was little, just braces, etc... Her, very much interested in all I had to say.)
But then! As I was not really willingly explaining my whole life to this random crazy lady, her maybe 12 year old son walked up to her (he, already having been at a table inside) and starts talking to her, effectively interrupting what I was saying (Whatever. Go for it, kid.)
Well, she must have given him a stern look, because he all of a sudden turned to me and, very politely, asked me, Excuse me. Is it okay if I talk to my mother now?
Yes! Of course! Go right ahead.
Meanwhile, my table became ready, my friend arrived, and I scooted away as fast as I could while he was talking to his mother.
The end.
What in the heck was all that about?! I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm totally not opposed to talking about "what I've got going on" if someone is curious. I just would never expect that curious person to be some random lady who just happened to walk into the same restaurant I was at, waiting for a table minding my own dang business.
So, that was weird. Some people I've told this story to have been like, Why did you even talk to her? I would've asked her who she was and why was I any of her business. Well, yeah. True, that. But I don't know. I really was just trying to be polite and give her a short answer to hopefully satisfy her. But it didn't. And then it snowballed a bit. Until her son saved me.
Now, the complicated bit. (Well, maybe not really.)
When it comes to, like, almost everyone else in my life that I regularly see (other than Hubby and Sweetie, cuz they just know)... it's my feeling that nobody else that I actually know and would be happy to talk to, has really asked me at all how I am or what's going on with me. In my mind (and, yes, I appreciate that I am deciding how I think others view me without actually knowing), I think that others, who actually are my friends and family, just see me the same exact way that I was pre-surgery (exactly 1 year and 1 day ago today.) And they probably feel sad for me that the surgery didn't do what I hoped it would do (get me back to walking without crutches.) So, they don't talk to me about it or how I'm really doing or what I'm really feeling about the experience of the surgery and its outcomes.
That's what I think they think. Just sayin'. I know, it's a grand, sweeping presumption on my part.
At any rate...in case you were wondering... cuz no one really asks or wants to remind me or bring up "bad" or "failed" things to me, or anything, I guess... I'm here to say that I am doing great! The surgery was a success. It detethered my spinal cord, which is all that it was really meant to do. Because my spine is detethered, I have no more/very little lower back pain now (still some, but I honestly chalk that up to me being older and arthritic.) So, this is fabulous! But my legs got weaker and weaker prior to surgery because of the tethered cord, and so they still don't work the way they did before. Maybe they will some day (I do still do my my exercises, and will continue to do them), maybe they won't. But, honestly? I have come to realize how much more stable and safe I feel walking with my crutches. I used to fall pretty regularly. I became a pro at falling! But now? Eh. I hardly fall at all because I have 2 crutches to help catch myself instead of one stick. Cool. So, whatever. Even if I am able to strengthen my legs to the point where I could use the stick again, I think I'd just stay with the crutches anyway at this point.
And because no one asks me how I am doing or how I'm feeling about all this... I think I've been trying to "get back to the old me" for the sake of other people who so, so wanted that for me. But you know what? It may not happen. Or it might! I'm not stressing about it... anymore. And neither should others. No one needs to pussyfoot around me like I sometimes feel they are. I'm good! I was never promised that my surgery would instantly - or ever - get me back to walking how I was before. And, if I'm honest with you (which I always aim to be)... when I had this surgery the first time, in my early 20s, (and I'm kinda just now realizing this as I type), I considered that surgery a huge success because it got rid of my back pain at the time. That's it! But you know what? That exact surgery also made things "worse" for me, if you can call it that, because I started to have to walk with crutches and, slowly, I got to the walking stick. Instead of just my braces. It did change my functionality. But was I mad? No! I was relieved to not have the pain anymore! So now I walk with a stick. Okay. I'm still walking. I'm still good. Let's go!
And now? I'm 20 some years older so, naturally, I just have your standard older person aches and pains. And, yeah, my leg muscles and sciatic nerves and what not are screwed up from the damage done by the tethered cord. It's just what happened. Oh well. Muscles can get stronger. I don't know that nerves can be repaired. But, whatever. That major constant lower back pain I had before is gone. So - success! I'm still walking. Some days (or even scattered throughout a day) I may have more or less pain when I move about. But that's way better than all pain all the time.
So - great! Are we all good now? Are we all on the same page now? I'm good. Talk to me about it if you want. Or don't. But don't be afraid to, I guess. If you ever were at all. If I wrote this post 6 months ago or so, sure. I didn't really have a good grasp then on how I felt or what I expected would happen after the surgery or what I really wanted to say to people about it at the time. I remember my sister-in-law basically asking me how I was doing last Thanksgiving and I instinctively turned to Hubby to answer for me. Cuz, like I said, I just wasn't very clearheaded then about what my reality was like vs. my post surgery expectations. Nor what I suspected others must be thinking about what they saw of my surgery results. Another time late last Autumn, a friend from church saw me on the crutches and just assumed aloud to me that I must've just been taking it easy that day but, really, I was back to using my stick now, right? Wrong. And I honestly kinda felt bad that I wasn't back to the way she expected me to be. Like I was letting her down to "admit" that, no, I'm still on the crutches. Sorry.
But not anymore. I'm not ashamed. I'm not living my life for others. Based on what I think they think. I'm living for me. And I'm doing great! I'm so thankful I had the surgery. I needed it! Had I not had it, I may very well have ended up in a wheelchair permanently by now. And maybe, if and when I have the surgery again in another 20 some years, it will again result in relieved pain but maybe now having to use the wheelchair all the time. But now, I still can amble about on my own. Yes, crutches are clunkier than my walking stick. It's not as smooth or desirable for me to want to walk long distances with the crutches. And, yeah, my remaining leg pain and numbness prevents me from wanting to or being able to walk for too long (but way longer than pre-surgery.) My right knee in particular feels... numb/weird/weaker/prone to giving out on me? - and this is a brand new thing since PT. But I really think it feels this way because I'm actually bending that knee in a more correct way than I ever have before. So, those muscles are being used in a different way than they were before - if they were being used before at all. So that's weird. But it's okay. Because now I own my own wheelchair and it's super helpful to have that option available to me. Heck! Hubby and Sweetie and I went to Philadelphia for a week last month and we walked for like 5 miles a day, everyday! Well, they walked, and I rode. But it was great for me to realize that, thanks to my wheelchair (and willing helpers), I could still get around and do all the things I wanted to do and see everything I wanted to see. It was wonderful!
Anyway. That's all I wanted to say. I think this post has largely come to fruition from a recent show we watched. We three have recently started watching The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning, streaming on Peacock. One episode featured this woman who has terminal cancer. And she felt extremely frustrated and alone that all her friends and family who were there to help her through this, wanted to talk to her about anything but her cancer. Like it was a taboo subject to ever bring up. But the Death Cleaners (that sounds so horrible - but they are really lovely people, I promise) helped her realize that she needs to tell her friends and family how she feels and about how she sometimes needs to talk about the cancer. It's not going away. She has her own thoughts and feelings about being sick. About dying. And she has all these people around her! And yet, she feels so alone in her sickness because no one wants to talk to her or let her talk about it. So, she told them. And it was beautiful.
It's cleansing to talk. To get things off your chest. It's healthy and necessary for continued progress, success, health and happiness. That's why I love my blog so much. It lets me get things off my chest and get some much needed clarity about various things.
So, let's talk. If you want. I mean. I did just tell you what I'm thinking about everything you may or may not be wondering about me. But still. Talking. Good. I need to do more of it, in general.
But - do please try to leave random strangers alone when you just happen upon them in restaurants or wherever. That's just nutso.
