Recipe for Crazy
You know you’re grounded when you use your bicycle seat to pad your crutches.
Crazy, as it turns out, is pretty easy to make at my house! As many of you know, this spring I’ve been recovering from Achilles tendon surgery, which – to the uninitiated – is pretty much one big list of “No’s.” No standing, no walking, no driving, no gardening, no biking, no swimming, no nuthin’!
Faced with such tedium, I scheduled the surgery for cold, gray late winter in hopes of getting it over with. I spent the next six weeks plastered to the window, screaming and squeaking my hands against the glass, as spring bounded into the yard without me.
Yep, crazy is a cake with few ingredients: crutches, casts, acrobatic baths, pills, ice packs, and a gigantic, heavy, knee-high Velcroed boot. For the icing, all you need is the springtime sun and a stern warning not to play. It’s easy to make even if you’re loopy on pain medication, and it easily serves both you and any kindhearted soul unfortunate enough to live with you!
Goodbye, boot! I’m outta here.
Over time, even a well-baked cake goes stale, and man, is this one ever worn out! Finally, no thanks to my attitude, I managed to serve out my time, and a few days ago, I walked out of the doctor’s office very gingerly – but on two feet – holding that blasted boot aloft over my head like a war trophy.
It’ll take a lot of physical therapy to stop me from walking like a robot, and it’ll be months before I can strap on my running shoes, but I came straight home and scraped every crumb of craziness into the trash, then I went out and bought a Frisbee. Spring’s still here, in fact getting more beautiful by the minute, and clumsy as I may be, I’ve got a LOT of catching up to do!
Throughout this process, I’ve tried to be receptive to the wisdom and grace taught by hardships beyond our control – obstacles are sometimes the best learning experiences, and I’m thankful for the opportunity to be enlightened. Right. Or, more accurately, I’m compulsively examining this thing from every conceivable angle, ferreting out (even inventing), chewing on, and dispatching with every possible lesson, so that I never, never, ever (did I say EVER?) have to go through something like this again.
I ate a nice big helping of crazy, and I’ll pass on the seconds, thank you very much! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go put the seat back on my bicycle.