My Greatest Fear

 

I’m often asked what my greatest fear is in regards to living overseas. People usually expect my answer to involve bombs, terrorist hijackings, riots or getting a haircut. But in truth, my greatest fear is something much less exciting. 

 

I am terrified of breaking my leg while living overseas.

 

Why, you may ask? Because Europe is the least handicapped accessible place I have ever lived in.

 

 

Photo by Tony Crider

 

In May, I came face to face with my worst nightmare. I didn’t break my leg, but I did have knee surgery. Six weeks on crutches.

 

My first hurdle was climbing the two flights of stairs up to my apartment. I considered having Darling Husband lower a basket over the side of the balcony and hoisting me up, but I wasn’t able to find a basket sturdy enough.

 

Next, I threatened to simply sit down and scoot backwards up the steps using my arms and one good leg. Darling Husband nixed that idea. DH is an athlete and the idea of scooting up and down the stairs was too humiliating. Of course, he wasn’t the one scooting along on his booty, but that didn’t matter.

 

Finally, I turned to my most reliable source of information – YouTube. I watched countless videos of how to walk up and down the stairs with crutches. After 40 videos, I had the technique firmly embedded in my memory and was prepared to tackle the two flights of stairs up to my apartment. Two flights of slippery marble steps that include a hairpin curve without a guardrail handrail.  

 

Thirty minutes later, mumbling under my breath about dumb videos and the stupid people who post them, I made it to the top of the stairs. DH followed behind, steadying me as I experimented with various combinations of feet and crutches on my upward journey. I suspect DH stayed behind me so I wouldn’t see that he was laughing.

 

But I heard a snicker or two.

  

I got DH back for his snickers later that night. In the wee hours of the morning, nature called. I didn’t want to wake DH up from his sweet dreams, so I grabbed my crutches, carefully stood up and headed for the bathroom. Suddenly my crutches flew into the air as I tipped over backwards, bounced off the wooden sideboard, and landed on the floor. Evidently, a crutch must have hit DH in the head, because he sprang up from the bed shouting, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SO sorry!!” The gigantic bruise on my back was worth seeing DH jump up from a sound sleep shouting, “I’m sorry.” 

 

My biggest problem arose when DH went back to work and I was home alone. How do you carry your lunch from the kitchen to the recliner when you are on crutches???

 

My solution involved sweatpants with an elastic waistband. My drink of choice was poured into an insulated mug with a lid, then carefully positioned in the waistband of my pants.  Lunch was packed in a plastic bowl with a lid, and set inside a plastic shopping bag. With my drink tucked into my waistband, and the bag wrapped around the handle of my crutches, I limped my way from the kitchen to the recliner. I quickly discovered that my mug would begin a meandering path down my leg if the elastic in my pants wasn’t tight enough. I solved that problem with a bigger mug.

 

I survived my six weeks of crutch torture, and realized that my fear wasn’t so fearful. God was still in control and walked alongside me each limping step of the way.   

 

I also made Darling Husband promise that the next apartment we move into will have an elevator. He agreed after I held a crutch to his head.

 

Comments

[LaVerne]

Ha! Ha! Loved this, Mom.

[Jeniene Bingaman]

Robin you make it all sound so FUN, which it was not, That is the fun of Jesus as you write out the story trails come and he does walk with us and lives in us, no better way, You are so Loved

[acommonwoman]

Jeniene, you are my greatest encourager! Love you!

[Betsy]

Bless your heart! I can relate. We lived in a two story home in El Salvador, and I broke my foot while pregnant! This sounds familiar...

[acommonwoman]

Betsy, I cannot imagine being pregnant AND breaking a foot! You had great story to tell when that baby was born!

[Michele]

What a well told story! The things we take for granted about living overseas! Here in Brazil the hospital doesn't give you crutches to take home. Each person has to rent them on their own from special drugstores.

[acommonwoman]

Michelle, I still remember the first time we went to the doctor in Russia for shots, and realized we were supposed to buy the syringes at the pharmacy before going to the doctor. I always think nothing else will surprise me, yet things still pop up even after all these years of living overseas. God has truly given us a life of adventure!

[Sonia]

I hear you 100%. I wasn't living overseas but I was on vacation with a lovely sand beach (which I wasn't able to visit on my own), a lovely ocean which I couldn't get to without traversing the beach, and of course no elevators to get to my room. Thank goodness for my fiance at the time, who actually carried me from the hotel, across the beach, to the water and held me up while I dipped a toe into the ocean. Not a good place to learn how to use crutches but it was amazing how well I was getting along by the time I had to leave!