Something told me, that morning in May 2021, I shouldn't have gone out for a third trip on the bike. The boy's bicycle with a straight bar was intended to fit my partner, not me. With my gimpy right hip, I could barely swing my leg over the bar, and my body was saying “Tired. Take a rest.”
I want to go, I said. I pulled my leg over the bar and started down the street. To stop, I braked and put my left foot down. But now I couldn't lift my weary right leg over the bar, nor lean on it to lift my left leg either. The bike started rolling out from under me. I lost control and fell abruptly on my behind. Down came the bike, on top of me. I didn't need to ask, “God, why did this happen to me?” Ruefully I beheld the lesson: a hairline compression fracture in one of my vertebrae.
Luckily, my legs still worked. Painfully, over weeks, I learned to roll out of bed, dress, cook, hobble around the apartment, down the stairs, and along the street. Compared to those who've lost jobs or suffer from serious, costly ills, I wasn't that bad off. I just would have to slow down.
I did not want to slow down. Family movies show me as a toddler, flapping my arms to say “let's go, let's go!” Energy was my lifelong gift, and impatience the sin that tagged along. Thanks to personal foolishness, the Creator took part of my energy away. “But don't worry,” God said. “I am fair and also generous. I will give you different gifts.”
“I don't see the gift in this,” I grumped to my partner. All I could see was my loss. I could not lug music equipment or play the piano for more than an hour, so I couldn't well play on stage. Gone were my fresh-air wheels to tool around the neighborhood. Walking is still painful and difficult, as is sitting for long stretches of writing on the computer.
Whether trying chiropractic, physical therapy, massage therapy, or exercise on my own, I get little reminders from God: PATIENCE. Think before you move. Be content to do what you can, and rest when you're tired.
I've had to cooperate more with Nature and the Creator. Because I've had to plan ahead more, what I manage to do now often turns out better.
I still miss my years of flash-and-dash. But I'm grateful for the abilities God still gives me. I do what I can do. One day at a time.