Square Peg ● Round Hole

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It seems as I age, the impact of genetics and God’s handy work give me lots of opportunities to learn and grow. It also gives me annoyance along with a great deal of shame. The shame part is tricky as most of the things that have impacted my health are beyond my control, but there is that old tape inside of me that tells me that the people around me are getting sick of my issues. I know that is fake news, but sometimes I buy into my own propaganda. My anthology of health issues doesn’t define me unless I allow it.

I shared that a few weeks ago, I hurled myself onto the concrete and banged up my knee. (I didn’t really hurl myself, but it felt that way as I missed a step leaving a restaurant.) I had swelling but no pain and I was able to function even though my knee looked like a bag of skittles exploded. Fast forward a few weeks, and I decided that I would pay a visit to my knee doctor who happens to be in the same practice as my foot doctor. I am a frequent flyer at the orthopedic doctor’s office. It really isn’t my fault. It is like I am a building whose structure isn’t sound and should be condemned.

My whole prayer going over there was that I wouldn’t see anyone I knew. The staff is familiar with me. It is almost like the television show “Cheers” were everybody knows your name. Gratefully, the only person that I came upon who knew me was the doctor. Fortunately, the X-rays revealed that I didn’t do any damage to my knee cap, but I do have bursitis. My bursa did an amazing job protecting my knee with the impact it experienced. I am on steroids and am icing on a regular basis, but really, all is well.

I have to give myself grace and accept that this is simply life. A blip. It is the realization that shit happens and I get to choose how I react to it. Acceptance doesn’t mean I like it. It simply means I will try to do the next right things in order to walk through it. I am a work in progress who is just trying to not have to buy a Life Alert necklace.