Days in cast: 3Doctors seen: 3 Days on crutches: 10 Days since injury: 10

Injuries and new diagnoses can trigger grieving. I know the stages well: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Anyone with health challenges knows how easy it is to swing from one extreme emotion to the next within minutes. Over and over. The big challenge with chronic conditions is that acceptance constantly changes. I can accept a limitation, only to bump up a new limitation the next morning, or find that limitation shrinking around me. Or an injury that changes everything.

I have my own language for grieving. I have frustration. Anger. Shock. After an injury, I go to a place of survival. Nothing matters. Everyday life becomes muffled and small. The only important thing is getting well again. Then reality hits hard. The losses. The consequences. Missed chances. Missed wages. I had plans for writing in these weeks. Getting the fairy website updated. Reopening our Etsy shop. This is the Melt Down stage. The swampy mire that feels unending. I am lost. Overwhelmed.

So I guess my stages so far are shock, loss, overwhelm. Overwhelm leads to helplessness and then it's tempting to give up. In that stage, I am not the movie-story. I am not inspired or strong. I am dark and disturbed and upset. I am defeated.

The story continues, though. The sun sets. And the sun rises. I find moments to lift and inspire me. My dancer girl.

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And I learn. My family learns. They learn how to make my coffee in the morning. We get medicine. And a wheelchair. I figure out the crutches are set an inch too tall and the adjustment makes them much easier. We watch movies and the Olympics. I download a dozen free games on the iPad. We put a lawn-chair in the shower.

We figure stuff out. And it is still rough. Still painful. Consequences still loom. But we find compensation strategies or coping strategies. We create solutions. I sure don't accept this hurt ankle, but I am willing to let it heal. I accept that it will take time and patience. And I trust that I have the strength and skills to ride out the healing. And the CMT means that healing will take longer. I have no doubt about that.

I have another appointment tomorrow. So maybe better news. I hope. But I trust that I will find tricks along the way. So my injury scale moves from shock, fear, overwhelm, inspiration, to coping strategies. Of course, it's not a linear path. It can swing from emotion to emotion within minutes. Still, I hope I've turned a corner for a little while. I'm on day two without breaking down in tears. Sounds like progress to me.

My fingers are crossed. Meanwhile, I better sign off so I can get important rest. I close with more inspiration. My boy sleeping. Is anything sweeter than a dreamy little boy?

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PS: A big part of this inspiration came after I was frustrated with not being able to take photographs like usual. So, I can't go take photos, but can I find photos? What images can I capture as life unfolds around me? Challenges can be opportunities in disguise :)

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Wishing you peace and good health!

Lenka Vodicka

I am a photographer, writer, and crafter in the Sierra foothills. I am the bestselling author of the Forest Fairy Crafts books. I am a recent breast cancer survivor and I manage hereditary neuropathy (Charcot Marie Tooth or CMT). I live with my two teens, a black cat, two kittens, a bunny, and a furry little dog named Chewbacca. I enjoy adventures, creativity, and magic.

http://lenkaland.com
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