Relative Something

One year ago this week, Cyndie shattered her ankle. After surgery to hold bone pieces together with plates and screws, she has worked long and hard to get back to as close to 100% as possible. After multiple follow-up consultations with her surgeon, she has decided to endure additional surgery to remove the hardware now that the bones have healed.

There just isn’t enough room in her little ankle to fit the added metal. Cyndie has sensed this for a long time but still put effort toward figuring out ways to cope with the ongoing pain, hoping that added time would lead to improvement.

The pain of trying to walk in a winter boot recently helped her to decide another surgery was justified.

We know the routine. She will be convalescing in the recliner with periodic icing and I will need to do all the dog walking and horse care. In the last few days, Cyndie has been working feverishly to prepare meals that can be frozen and tackling as many projects as possible before she becomes chair-bound.

I’m trying hard to keep myself from overthinking what my routine will be like during her recovery period. The difficulty is that I know what’s coming. Last year there was no warning that our lives would be impacted so dramatically for months.

I’m not sure which is worse. It was an unwelcome shock last year when Cyndie suddenly got injured so severely. But knowing in advance what is headed our way is a little scary, too.

Maybe distracting my mind by assembling a jigsaw puzzle will help. I can make it a contest to see if I will find and place all the pieces before Cyndie heals enough to take Asher for walks again.

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