A short walk today.
I have a blister at the end of my residual limb. Each step causes searing pain up my little limb. As I was walking I reviewed my day, knowing I’ll have to work until 9 pm and stand a lot at a function this evening. Standing on a blister hurts. I don’t want to make this blister worse. I know when to quit, so I turned around.
So I’m inclined to ask, “What’s right about this?”
The blister and it’s accompanying pain gives me the opportunity to take care of myself. I’ve been on-the-go for over a week. There’s been little “down time” in my life for ten days. I’m feeling overwhelmed. I haven’t been eating as well or sleeping as much. The one positive thing I’m doing for my body is walking and exercising. Turning around this morning after three blocks was a way to honor my body where it is right now.
The other thing that’s right about this is that a blister is a sign that my prosthetic leg is getting too big. Finding the correct socket fit is like shooting at a moving target, but blisters at the end of the limb typically mean it is hitting the bottom of the socket. If that’s true, then I can say that my little limb is shifting shape because of my walking. And that’s cool. That’s physical results.
It’s easy for me to whine about this. Instead I’ll be proactive. I’ll call my prosthetist today and make an appointment. Instead I’ll focus on what I have done and how I’m seeing results. Instead I’ll say, “Oh well.” This isn’t the end of the world. I’ve had blisters many times before. Giving the blister time to heal is the best thing I can do for my limb, the best thing I can do for myself.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. I won’t know that until I put my leg on tomorrow morning. A big part of me wants to know, to plan, to have the security of knowing that I’ll be following through on my commitment to walk. But the truth of the matter is that I don’t know. It’s OK to not know. I am OK hanging out in this gray area of the unknown for today.