Today was to be significant in another way. Today I was hoping to be given part of my life back. To catch up... To leap. Today I had a date with Glen Sather. Or more specifically I had an appointment at the Glen Sather sports medicine clinic. I was hoping to get the news that I would be cleared for "combat". I wasn't. Four and a half months ago I suffered a temporarily crippling knee injury at roller derby practice (that's right - I'm a derby girl and that is another post all together). For weeks I hobbled around, I couldn't drive my standard car because it was my clutch leg and my knee had lost all bendiness, I barely slept because it hurt in every position and I watched my fellow fresh meat skaters pass their skills test and leave me in their dust. It was tough, scary and yet I found my way. Physio 3 times a week, ice, heat, ice, strengthening exercises, ice, doctors, MRIs, x-rays, ice... Its a new road. I have never been an athlete and figuring this shit out at 39 with two small children has been challenging. Some days all I wanted to do was kneel down to help my baby put her boots on. To be at her eye level and kiss her face. I found patience that I didn't know I had and a resolve that was reignited. And today I walked into that exam room with in my striped knee socks and taped up knee, holding the hand of my miniature moral support in a bumblebee back pack. All I wanted to hear was YES. YES, go hit those bitches. The answer I walked away with was not so affirmative and the statute of limitations on my patience has run out.
