Twelve days ago I had the bunion surgery on my right foot. The first six days the pain was strong enough to warrant taking the prescription for oxycondon that I was given. My toes were swollen purple bulbs which my neighbour described as red potato-like.
On day six and seven, I came off of the oxcondon and was fine. Swelling was down and the deep throbbing pain abaited. The adventure of trying to carry items from one room to another while using crutches has been an exploration. At first, I could fill my cereal bowl then hop it over to the table. Most of the contents ended up on the floor.
My quality of life increased markedly when I could make coffee for myself in the morning. One of the difficulties that I experience is very low blood pressure. I now time the getting up to wait until the sparkly stars go away before I try to move on the crutches.
The first week I fell frequently. Being stoned on oxycondon, whoozie from the anesthetic and having such low blood pressure lead to me falling fairly predictably. I am looking forward to September 6th when I get the stitches out and see the surgeon.
Because my contact with the surgeon was limited (he was on vacation until just shortly before my proceedure) I had little knowledge of what to expect. So I read blogs. I read bunion doctor’s posting. What I ascertained was I needed to keep the foot elevated for 10 to 14 days to minimize the inflammation. Swelling or smacking the foot could cause it to heal out of alignment. Holy cow chips bat man, I didn’t want to go through this to have it be less than perfectly corrected. So I was conservative and kept my foot elevated most of the day.

So now I am looking forward to the mile stones. Having the stitches out, being able to put my heel down, being able to drive the car after September 21st.
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I think it is a good sign that I have begun to think about working toward my goals with the art and writing. I feel as if my head is clearing, I am learning to take smaller steps on the crutches and pay attention to my balance.
And my neighbour tells me my toes finally look like toes.
Who knows how long this entire process will take.

Some have blogged that they had to wear runners and baby their foot up to three months after the surgery. We are all different. Our circumstances and bodies are individual. As always, every journey is about being patient and finding a way to do what can be done without pushing, anger or fear.
I lay here in bed and listen to the high wind bringing in another weather system. Summer is going. Who knows what the next season will bring? I have hope that I will find a new way of being and carrying forward my goals with both feet firmly on the ground.

Since January, I have had so many twists in my life. First my husband came to me after a year of separation to say he would like to “save our marriage.” Although, the financial settlement I paid him left me as a 66 year old woman with the same debt load I carried as a 40 year old, I was bonded to him emotionally. I loved him. So I told him we could both go to counseling and attempt to work back together.

My children were talking to me as if I were a toddler headed for a hot stove. They spoke slowly with unnaturally calm voices. “He took money mom. He lied to you”. Their overly patient tone spoke volumes about the levels of denial that they were trying to break through.

In June I was told information that left me in disgust. It was time to file for divorce and not only would the marriage be over, but I now had to try to unwind the lies, the double lives, the moments of apparent affection from those of manipulation.

My counseling session was mainly me sitting snot sobbing into a box of tissues. The extent of the information I had received was beyond my imagination. Thank God for that.

So instead of untangling the statements, the looks, the gestures, the hidden life from the surface life, my job was to just walk away. There was no use in trying to retrieve anything from the mess. Photographs, images on my computer, loving message cards everything had to be thrown away, burned in a ritual cleansing or stored far from my living space. The energy was just not something I wanted around me. At all.

So how did I get here. I have come to take responsibility. My father was very sick. His problems mirror the problems of the men I selected to allow into my life. He died of heroin addiction at 53 from heart failure. The various talents and high I.Q that he had were wasted because he lived a life of lies not the least of which was to himself.

When I was 13, my mother had thrown him out (finally). He came back and tried to get into the house. I told him that if he broke the dead lock, I would phone the police and report him for all he had done to us.

So at 13 I had the backbone to protect our family. I thought myself strong. What I didn’t realize was the legacy of being with an addict/alcoholic. We seek out the scenario again and again to try to heal it. It is normal to run back into the burning building to try to bring our lives back out. Crazy. But normal.
So grief, lost dreams, a time of just looking back without trying to justify any of it started in June.

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The voice, “you cannot trust your decisions.. the way you see the world is not correct,” is what whispers to me. Having been taken in by lies over the years leaves one so hesitant.

I have meditated, prayed, gathered friends around me, reconnected with my children and my brother. I have asked my guides and angels to help me find a path that I can trust. I have asked for forgiveness for the negative karma that resulted in being where I am now.

And yet, I could not seem to move on and out. Two weeks ago I decided to complete my list of unfinished items. One was to call the surgeon about the bunion operation I have been awaiting for two years. “Can you go in on the 17th of August?” I was asked.

So now the last thing I have been awaiting is coming. The blogs I have read about the surgery say that for about two weeks I will be laid out with the foot up. After that it can be anywhere from two to three months before I am moving around easily again.

It is good that I am having the deformity corrected and will be able to wear shoes again. Getting things straight is the theme now

The last few years have been about change. My mother died, my step-father died, my image of my husband who was part of my life for 18 years has died. I had abdominalplasty and will have bunion surgery. What a passage and reformation this period has been.

I laughingly say that after the bunion surgery has healed…. I will be afoot with my vision.

My path to energy work and healing some of the deep-seated damage from my childhood and bad choices for partners is the future. I am done with trying to go into the burning bulding to find my life.

Whatever it is that I was supposed to learn in this life, I accept the lesson. Now I want chocolate, kisses from a healthy man and a chance to show my love to others. Listening. I am listening for my calling.