This might be as good as it gets

Nov 14

When you have a cold, they say get well soon.

When you are going through a break-up, they say you will get over him.

When you are disabled, they don't know what to say.

There is also this in-between place where I often find myself, one where people feel they know just what to say even though it doesn't always land well. I most often hear- " You will get there! Before you know it, you will be walking without a limp!" The intention is heartfelt, but it can easily leave me feeling like the progress I've made isn't good enough for them, despite my doctor's more realistic expectations. I've learned to walk with a prosthesis, and two years later, I still limp, and the blisters still form. The amputation wounds aren't fresh anymore, and the scars are less pink, touched by enough sunlight to turn a light shade of tan, despite my regular use of sunscreen. I won't dare get rid of my wheelchair because I know there will always be days when it's needed. I'm not physically healing anymore. Now I am living, and this is what living looks like for me. It's not an ugly place to be, But outsiders struggle to understand that this is not a temporary situation for me.

I am grateful to be able to stand upright and use a prosthesis to carry me through life, no matter how much the friction irritates my skin and weighs heavy on my body. This might be as good as it gets, and surprisingly, that has been harder for outsiders to accept than it has been for me. I am capable, I am strong, and most importantly, I am happy. I guess they didn't all get the memo.

" I hope you feel better soon!" Yelled the TSA agent as I got back in my wheelchair and made my way to my gate at the airport. It wasn't worth the energy at that moment to explain to him that I feel pretty damn good considering my lack of a limb, so I just carried on. If I only based my mood on other people's thoughts on my condition, I would be miserable. I will simply not live tied to a stranger's perception. I know better than them what my life is. They may not always see the beauty of my day-to-day, because the struggle of it clouds their vision like a fog.

I have love. I have the freedom to share my thoughts and emotions on this blog. I have support and a god-given appreciation for my second chance at life post-cancer. I have friends and family who don't treat me any differently, except to ensure I have a place to sit and rest between all of our adventures. I have a little cousin who took a deep interest in class when her teacher taught a lesson on prosthetics so that she could understand how mine works. I have more than many people with all four limbs could ever dream of. Pity would be wasted on me.

Find the magic in your life and focus on that, the rest is only there to make you stronger.