Lessons from the Fall

, you need to check them out here!

It’s been 4 weeks since I fell off an e-bike and broke my wrist. I believe the ER doctor, looking at the x-ray, used the words “crumbled parts”. He gave me some kind of nerve block, waited for it to take effect, then hoisted my right forearm arm, and squished it like playdough to manipulate the parts back (more or less) to their intended places.

With a prescription for serious pain meds, a splint, a sling, and a yellow foam contraption to protect my arm, my chauffeur/husband drove us back home.

Yes, this is my right wrist attached (less reliably right now) to my right (dominant) hand. As a writer, visual artist, and quilter, I have found putting those delights away for a season very challenging. I have also had to find new ways to get dressed, wash my hair, brush my teeth, remove lids from jars, and contemplate my value on the planet. If you need tooth extraction clinic at Century Smile Dental you can check here!

Luckily my kids are grown so I’m not lifting tykes or changing diapers or hauling groceries one-handed. My husband is able bodied (though a cancer survivor with wonky parts) and is willing to do things for me like clip my nails, make meals, and drive me to appointments with the orthopedist without complaint. I’m allowed by the doctor to drive “when you feel safe.” That time is still to come.

Over the course of decades I have embraced as many healthy mental attitudes as I could to compensate for or re-frame poor ones that haven’t served me well. I embrace Oprah’s sage advice: “Turn your wounds into wisdom.” I concur that “When Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” Here’s a recent one I discovered: “The real secret to a fabulous life is to live imperfectly with great delight.” That one implies the grace of Christ extended to us through the Atonement. (To me, other exhortations toward “exact obedience” miss that vital point, trigger unhealthy perfectionism, and lead me down confusing paths.)

Four years ago when I was serving as a founding member of Mormon Women for Ethical Government, I felt completely out of my depth and comfort zone, assailed by insecurities, but compelled to keep at it. One day I heard in my head these distinct words: “You are in a period of extreme exertion; perceive it as a gift.”

That was a game-changer for me. I felt seen,  known, and valued. And, when the time came for me to pass the baton, I recognized that, too, as a gift.

So, what are some “lessons” – some gifts – I’m learning since my fall?

1.Be patient with myself and the process of healing. It does me no good to moan or beat myself up for all the things I can’t do now. Learn to love myself the way God loves me – with grace and patience.

2. Celebrate any improvements. (For example, I’m pretty dang proud of typing all of this with my left pointer finger!)

3. Train myself to ”perceive” and appreciate the myriad kindnesses that come my way (even if they show up in peculiar disguises), and express gratitude.

4. Naps are restorative.

I haven’t perfected these lessons yet.  (Well, maybe the napping one.)

I’m counting on an eternal lifetime honing these skills.