Baby steps

     When I first started this journal/blog I was making slow but sure progress.  Baby steps.  I feel like each passing week there are still steps forward.  One day I notice I no longer park close to the entrance of the store.  Then the next I no longer grab a cart to help me inside.  I don't sit on the side of the tub and swing my legs over, I just step in, one leg after the other.  I am consciously using my left leg to step up and my right leg to step down, when it comes to stairs.  I get into the car by bending and placing one leg in, then the other - not by sitting, then pivoting.  Small things.  But they each signal a change in how I move through the day. 

     Who would have ever thought that I would be learning how to walk at 54?  At one point I was doubting I would ever be "normal" again.  On the other hand, why shouldn't I?  The mental aspect of this whole recovery business was greatly overemphasized.  I DID have a problem walking.  It WAS something I had to learn to do again.  Because if it had all been mental, I would have willed myself into it so much sooner.  And I would have taken leaps, not baby steps.

    I emailed my PT and gave her a brief update, and after her reply, I was glad I had.  But I am so ready to be over all of it forever.  I want to reach the point at which the baby steps are so small, that I realize I am already where I want to be.  And I want to come to realize one day, that I haven't thought about progress in a very long time...