Don't Cry

First day back to work started a little something like this...

 

Coffee prepared, lid firmly in place, tucked in my pajama pants at the waist. I take two steps with crutches, BAM - that badass core of mine tossed my coffee onto my floor. 🙄 Thank goodness it wasn’t down my pants. I take a deep breath and clean up the mess, on one leg. 

 

Arriving at work, walking from the parking garage to the boutique felt like The Green Mile. 

 

Don’t think about it, just take one one-leg hop at a time. It’s not going to get any easier unless you do it, Deb. Just. Do. It. 

 

First day back finally draws to an end. Breathe. 

 

I swear, except I try not to swear, my sides have diaper rash from cursed crutches. And surprisingly I’ve not considered throwing the stupid things one time. (Probably because this would mean I’d have to hop over to retrieve the SOB’s.)

 

I’m lying in bed, propping my badass self up on ice bags. 

 

Exactly one week down, today. Only 5-7 more weeks to go. Doctor said it would be hard. When someone in Jackson tells you it’s going to be hard, you better believe it’s going to be hard. People are tough here, really tough. Never quitters everywhere. 

 

Do you remember boot camp (or ski fit in the gym) and hopping back and forth on one leg over the yard line? Well, that little drill comes in more handy than algebra, most days. Seriously. Instead of a minute or two, x6, it’s a day long drill. What are you made of, ya old broad? 

 

Attitude Deb, it’s all about the attitude. 

 

Don’t cry. I’m not crying. 

 

So much going on in Texas, but worrying accomplishes nothing. Zip. 

 

Everyone and everything will be fine. 

 

Hug me Maggie Rose. I need a hug.