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Broken Bones Mean Christmas Is A Time To Slow Down, Get Better

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By MICHELLE BEARDEN

mbearden@tampatrib.com

Published: December 6, 2008

Slow down, you move too fast

Got to make the morning last.

Simon and Garfunkel,

"Feeling Groovy"

I knew the news wasn't going to be good when I heard the two technicians whispering to each other at the medical clinic.

"Ohhhh, not one, but two fractures in the pelvis," one said in a hushed tone. Silence, and then some tsk-tsking. The other gasped. "And look at that third rib! What a nasty crack. She won't be dancing anytime soon."

Ouch. I was prone on a cold steel table, having just endured a dozen or so X-rays to determine the damage I had done to my body after a nasty fall from my horse. I could already hear my friends giving me the business: "This is what you get for getting a horse at your age. What were you possibly thinking?"

Oh, the inconvenience of it all.

Dealing with an injury that requires dependence on others, a walker, crutches and physical therapy is a nightmare for someone who's fueled by frenzy. As the doctor rattled off the requirements of rest, I was thinking of all the reasons why - sorry, Doc - I'd be unable to comply.

Christmas shopping. I hadn't even started! Parties - already RSVP'd. Stories to cover. A house to decorate. And what about my morning workout at the YMCA? It's doubly necessary during the holidays. Certainly my dog wasn't going to be happy about the cancelation of her morning and night walks. And yes, I DO want to get back up on my horse!

Denial, then acceptance. If you break your bones, you've got to give them time to heal, if you have any intention of being in good working order again. End of story.

The pity party lasted a few days. Instead of ho-ho-hoing this holiday, I'm hob-hob-hobbling. I no longer jump out of bed, dash in the shower and throw on some clothes for work. I'm learning to put up with all the wisecracks about the walker (no more jokes about the tennis balls, please).

But just two weeks into this period of patience and healing, I've been blessed in more ways than I can count: A sister put my ridiculously chaotic home in order so I could maneuver around with my walker. My friend Ed has spent days "Driving Miss Daisy" to appointments and errands. My significant other went beyond the call of duty to keep this impatient patient happy. Sam's Club and Publix have those nifty motorized carts to dart around their stores. And friends have who brought flowers, homemade meals, funny cards and offers of help.

Yes, an incident like this gives me a chance to catch my breath and pause for reflection. Never will I take my physical well-being and independence for granted. I have a deeper empathy for people with disabilities, who endure difficulties day in and day out.

There's a frail old man who lives in the retirement complex next to our News Center. On several occasions, I've turned the corner in my car and had to wait while he worked his way across the street, leaning on his aluminum cane.

Sometimes, I'm embarrassed to say, I've fumed a bit as he slowly shuffled. I've got places to go, appointments to keep. What's taking him so long?

I feel an affinity with that old man now. When I see him next, I'll ask him for some pointers on using a cane. This walker definitely must go.

Yes, the holiday season is going to feel and look different. It will definitely be more frugal, with insurance co-pays eating up my present fund. Now, with plenty of time to spare, I can actually roast chestnuts on an open fire, sit back and dream of a white Christmas, and do some star gazing in the black evening sky, on the lookout for that mysterious Bethlehem Star we hear so much about. No blur of dashing through chain stores and running up charge cards.

Maybe this Christmas, for the first time, the true message will resonate, in the absence of all the clutter I've allowed in my life. Because this time, there's no running away from it.

As for the horse? She's definitely staying. Along with the younger one I bought. They are my greatest teachers in learning how to slow down, be more appreciative and enjoy quiet moments in the country, where the unspoiled nature does wonders for my restless soul. None of which would have happened had I not taken that rather ungraceful fall. Some presents come in the most unlikely packages.

Michelle Bearden can be reached at mbearden@tampatrib.com

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