One week after ACL and meniscus surgery.
On my way to PT I see another woman on crutches. We greet each other with enthusiasm though we’ve never met before. The crutches and the understanding of each other’s struggle makes us immediately close. “What do you have? Broke your tibia? What’s tibia?” “And you? ACL? Both my sister and my neighbor tore their ACL.”
Another woman jumps into the elevator with us, no crutches but looks at me with sympathy, “What do you have? ACL? My daughter ripped her ACL while skiing last year. It took her quite a while…”
Getting out of the elevator another woman rushes to help me open the door to the PT office. I thank her from my heart. She says, “I understand, I once broke my both legs”. Oh!
It’s a medical building, for sure. But still I’m in awe of “the broken bones club”. I previously belonged to it only through my kids. Each one fractured something at least once. Now this new reality! A sense of community, I would say. I wish, I didn’t experience it but I’m getting a new perspective, discovering another and more vulnerable layer of life.