Changes since 2015-01-27T03:16:57

2015-01-27T03:16:57Z

January 9, 2015

A Full List of People, None of Whom He Knows, Whose "Happy Birthday" Posts on My Facebook Wall Were "Liked" by My Boss, David Jacobs

My little sister's childhood best friend

One of my coeditors at The Morning News

A friend of my older sister

A dude I went to college with and maybe had one class with, I don't remember which

An adjunct professor who was a graduate student in the English department while I was an undergraduate in college who I have maybe spoken to in person once

Changes since 2014-12-23T19:47:08

2014-12-23T19:47:08Z

December 22, 2014

Wow! I've been walking like a normal person for about three weeks now. It all happened very quickly: one day I went in to my doctor's office for another X-ray and got downgraded to a cane, and the next week my podiatrist told me that I didn't need to come back anymore. I still find it almost unbearably exciting to be able to walk while carrying things in my hands, or to stop by the grocery store on my way home, or to take the subway. Mobility is such an incredible gift.

The very worst day on crutches, I've decided in retrospect, was November 18th. It was a Tuesday, and I was in the office (while I was on crutches, I worked remotely on the days on which I did not have a physical therapy appointment). It was also the first really cold day, which I did not realize until my fingers and the exposed toes of my fractured, booted foot froze as I stood at 14th and 1st trying to hail a cab to get to work. I don't complain-tweet often, but once I got in a cab I did (and then immediately walked it back, but still). Very kindly, J stopped by my office a few hours later to deliver me two gloves and one sock.I did

Weeks before, J had RSVPed for us to attend a talk at Columbia titled "Shinto and Its Impacts on the Japanese View of Nature and Culture," and as the date neared I became more and more determined to attend it despite my crutches. It would be such a victory over my lack of mobility, it was a subject in which I'm very interested, and after all, the trip would involve only one subway line.

It was really that same determination that caused all the trouble. I left work with plenty of time to spare, prepared for the cold with my single sock and gloves. Halfway through crutching the half-avenue-block and one-street-block to the 1 stop by my workplace, I decided that no, I wouldn't stop at the corner for breath. I continued on and found myself muttering out loud to myself between breaths, "You're very strong, Nozlee" and, "You're the only person who can do this." I phrase it like that -- "found myself muttering" -- because it felt involuntary.wouldn't

Without pausing, I carefully went down the subway steps, lowering my bad foot briefly before stepping back on to my good foot as I had learned to do. It felt good to take a break on the slow-moving 1 train, but I started to despair when I got off, looked at the map on my phone again, and realized just how loooong the Columbia campus was -- I was going to a building on the very far end of it. But there wasn't really anything to do but keep going, so I did.

I didn't hear J call my name the first time because I was whispering to myself again: "Nozlee, you are so strong; nobody can do this for you." He joined me and suddenly I seemed very silly to myself, muttering affirmations under my breath as if getting from point A to point B wasn't a normal thing to do. Like the very kind person he is, J asked how I was doing and then equally kindly fell silent when I choked out that I couldn't talk and walk at once. I was very set on making it to the building where the talk was without stopping for a break.

I made it to the building where the talk was without taking a break. I even made it to the elevator we'd be taking to the floor where the talk was without taking a break. Unfortunately, as soon as I took a break I also had a panic attack, my mouth contorting in awful grimacey shapes while I struggled to take a full breath after getting myself so mentally and physically worked up. The only explanation I could offer J was by way of gasping "That was very hard" over and over as we waited for the elevator.

In the end I made it to the talk, which was an absorbing and delightful distraction from how terrible I felt, and even the reception, by which time I'd calmed down enough to crutch around the beautiful East Asian Library. J asked if I wanted to take a cab all the way home but I insisted on taking the 1 to 14th Street (and actually, subway trips that didn't have transfers and involved minimal stairs were a funny kind of luxury when I couldn't walk -- riding the subway is a very specific type of downtime that I missed very much) before catching one, to bring the cost down. "That was very hard," I said again to J as we sat quietly in the cab. My throat was sore for several days from raggedly breathing in all that cold air on my two marches.

There's not a good ending to any of this. Even on that worst day, I made dinner when I got home, like normal. There was no fanfare the first day I walked unsupported on two feet; I just found that I didn't need the cane anymore. If there is a lesson in any of this, which there probably isn't because it was just an accidental foot injury, it might be that narrative is for chumps.

Nozlee's relvokcor.xyz page

Changes since 2015-01-27T03:16:57

Changes since 2014-12-23T19:47:08