For anyone new here or doesn’t follow me on Facebook, my daughter had surgery 2 weeks ago to rebuild the ACL in her knee. We went into surgery expecting her to be able to start walking without crutches 10 days post-surgery. That all went sideways and she came out with the additional diagnosis of 2 meniscus tears, a brace that made it difficult for her to get out of a chair unassisted, and the news she wouldn’t be able to start therapy until after the 2-week mark.
That all went sideways and she came out with the additional diagnosis of 2 meniscus tears, a brace that makes it difficult for her to get out of a chair unassisted, and the news she wouldn’t be able to start therapy until after the 2-week mark.
Well, my girl had her 2-week check-up…and more not-fun news. Because of the tears in her meniscus, she can’t start physical therapy next week or the week after…for another 4 weeks. Which means crutches more time on crutches.
To recap, she injured her knee 2 months ago and we have 4 more weeks before we can start working on getting back to normal. Six weeks. Including the time she spent waiting for surgery, that’s a total of 12 weeks on crutches. Twelve weeks.
Twelve weeks of not being able to clear her plate from the table, carry her laundry basket up the stairs, walk in the woods, and swim in a lake. Twelve weeks of being bored, left-out (because it’s hard to talk to someone in a wheelchair and boring to sit all day), frustrated, in pain, and just plain out of sorts.
I’ve always had a respect for parents with special needs kids, but folks, I think they need awards.Tweet This
Every day. Heck, I’d be down with every minute. Because if I have to carry one more plate, remember one more medicine, answer one more late night call…I just don’t know where they get the stamina to go on. And I have an end date (or at least what we think is an end date).
It all makes me question how much I really love my daughter. I’m a good mom, most of the time. And I’ve loved the extra snuggles, chances to talk, and opportunities to be creative. She’s won awards, conquered fears, overcome challenges. And I’m so very proud of her and myself for not letting it stop us completely.
But I can’t imagine. I can’t imagine a lifetime of being a caregiver.
And so, for any of you out there with long-term responsibility for caring for a disabled child, I don’t have the ability to grant you an award, but I can take a moment to say thank you.
Thank you for your sacrifice and commitment. Thank you for what you do, for your example.
Through some of you, I’ve learned to take it one day at a time, be mindful of the good moments, and look for the lessons can learn.