After all my thinking I’ve come to a realization.
And it wasn’t even a result of all the thinking.
Instead a statement from the oddest of places.
“I can’t believe I get to live in this body”
You could practically hear my brain scream “THAT’S IT.”
I can’t believe I get to live in this body.
I can’t believe I have to live in this body.
Which is pretty common statement when you have CP, because if your body doesn’t always do what you want it to do it’s not always your favorite thing and you resent it every once and a while. It’s a part of poor body image that no one ever considers; your image is poor because your body is often at times, well, poor.
It’s not that I had a poor self-image, other than the teenage years and whose self-image is great at that time anyway, but there were times I wished things were different. Mainly why I wasn’t naturally gifted at most things that interested me. I didn’t want to work as hard as I had to to do anything, which included working out.
I knew what I had to do to maintain function. I’d been told it countless times. I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to. I didn’t care. I wasn’t like all the other people I’d been told about. I was different.
I was in denial.
(Am I saying that I spend 20+ years denying that I have CP? Probably, yeah.)
Then I had my wake up call.
And rolled myself off to fix my mess.
Part one was surgeons.
Part two was all me.
And I thought I knew how it was all going to go.
I may talk a big game but I’m still in the early stages of figuring this all out.
I thought I’d recover from surgery, just like I have from all of my other surgeries, and return to some sort of status quo I’d been living with, and hope I’d have a good chunk of time before I had to repeat the pattern.
Because that’s how CP works.
I felt (and still do) so different with my new hips. I have my good (when I could tell my jeans wouldn’t fit) and bad days (when my jeans didn’t fit) with them. At first it was difficult to adjust to them. My brain recognized the correction but often couldn’t get it together to work with it. Even though it was/can still be frustrating it’s amazing.
I’ve come to a level of acceptance that makes every day fun in some aspect.
”Let’s see if I can do this.”
Some days I do.
Sometimes it takes more work.
I’m still in shock that this body is mine.
It’s really cool.
Work with what you have & own it.
Keep raising the bar.
You’ll keep surprising yourself.
*A similar version of this post first appeared on an old blog on February 25, 2011