When
I experienced an injury that was temporarily disabling, I had certain
expectations of what was to come that I now realize were not
helpful.
I originally thought that my recovery would be like flying on a plane. Transportation (in other words, my progress back to health) would be essentially passive; the discovery several months in that my injury was more severe than originally thought would be merely a diversion to another airport en route for bad weather (round two of surgery); and it would be clear when I had reached my destination and would be able to disembark. Oh, and I would be able to get work done inflight.
Well, it hasn't been like that.
The last year or so has been more like swimming across a lake fully clothed. Transportation (making progress back to health) has been arduous. Just when I thought I was reaching the shore, the water got deeper on me again. I'm back in shallower waters again, feeling my feet on the ground, but I'm still struggling to get to dry land with waterlogged clothes. I can't tell for sure where the edge of the water actually is. And trying to get all the way out of the water is still requiring all my concentration (heck, I still can't walk and talk at the same time), so I'm not getting anything else done. Which is a constant disappointment to me.
I imagine those around me have been puzzled as well as disappointed in my persistent lack of productivity, but I now realize: they think I've been on a plane, but all along I've been thrashing around in the water.
I originally thought that my recovery would be like flying on a plane. Transportation (in other words, my progress back to health) would be essentially passive; the discovery several months in that my injury was more severe than originally thought would be merely a diversion to another airport en route for bad weather (round two of surgery); and it would be clear when I had reached my destination and would be able to disembark. Oh, and I would be able to get work done inflight.
Well, it hasn't been like that.
The last year or so has been more like swimming across a lake fully clothed. Transportation (making progress back to health) has been arduous. Just when I thought I was reaching the shore, the water got deeper on me again. I'm back in shallower waters again, feeling my feet on the ground, but I'm still struggling to get to dry land with waterlogged clothes. I can't tell for sure where the edge of the water actually is. And trying to get all the way out of the water is still requiring all my concentration (heck, I still can't walk and talk at the same time), so I'm not getting anything else done. Which is a constant disappointment to me.
I imagine those around me have been puzzled as well as disappointed in my persistent lack of productivity, but I now realize: they think I've been on a plane, but all along I've been thrashing around in the water.
