Take a walk in my shoes.
I’m recently walking unassisted after (another) nearly three-month stint on crutches and in a walking cast. I’m still on limited activity per my doctor and still have a pronounced limp. While I’m ecstatic to be wearing two shoes I do miss the visible signifiers of my injury. When I was on crutches or wearing a giant boot everyone knew I needed special accommodation and would (usually) give me a seat on the train or be more patient if caught behind me on the stairs. Now I look like everyone else. And stand on the train. And get dirty looks hobbling up and down stairs. People were nicer to me when I was obviously hurt. Strangers talked to me all the time. I heard many stories of childhood broken bones and winters spent on crutches. People were friendlier than usual.
While I hope to never repeat this experience, I would like to incorporate some of the lessons I learned (and re-learned) into my non-injured life.
You don’t know what’s invisible. Many people face challenges that you can’t see. They may have lingering injuries like me, or have limitations or distractions that are not apparent. Before judging allow for the possibility of invisible limitations and try to learn more. They might just need a seat on the train to reach their destination.
People want to connect. My crutches and boot provided an obvious topic of conversation and total strangers started talking to me about their past injuries, physical challenges, the weather, running… people are apparently hungry for the contact. I need to find ways to reach out and build connections.
Build a strong network. I have an amazing support system. From my clients who made sure I had places to prop up my foot and ways to get coffee to my friends who cooked for me to my husband who did everything around the house to keep our lives on track and kept me sane, I called on my network and they delivered. Cultivate your network. You never know when you’ll need it, or be needed.
Don’t overload yourself. I’m not one for moderation or stepping down from a challenge, yet this recent refresher course in knowing my limits taught me (once again) the hazards of taking on too much. When the simplest tasks became challenging I had to prioritize. Whether it was planning my day based on accessible parking spaces or shifting my workload based on how long my energy would last I had to accept my limitations. When I pushed too hard I ended up paying the price.
As I had this same surgery four years ago, this was a refresher course in empathy, awareness and patience, but one that most of us could benefit from. So take a figurative walk in my shoes. But not too far. I’m still building up distance. Doctor’s orders.