...it doesn't mean it's not there.
Kathy has been getting better at using crutches.
Her right ankle still needs ligament repair, so she wears a brace to keep from twisting it and undoing what has mended.
She is spending more time in the office at home, in her wheel chair, on the computer.
Kathy needs butt rubs, from sitting so much (I'm smiling right now).
Kathy's mobility allows her to see all the little stuff that nobody else notices until it's left undone for a long time.
She sees it before people come over and see it.
It's okay though.
It's more "normal" (I am also looking forward to more "normal" work hours).
Having the time again and having the ability again to do things together again and we can be a more "normal" family again.
I know my eternal optimism drives Kathy crazy, but I can envision what the finish line looks like, even though we can't see it.
I would've quit, back when I used to run races, if I couldn't imagine crossing that line and being done!
It felt so good and was so worth it (even if it was only worth it because it meant pushing myself so hard was over,.. for now).
Not to belittle what Kathy is going through, because it is far worse than anything I've experienced.
More often than not, the anticipation of the IDEA of the journey is more difficult than the journey itself.
It can paralyze action.
I am proud of Kathy for not letting that happen.
There is a lot to admire about the way Kathy is tackling her recovery.
It really helps knowing that there IS a finish line.
