If My Foot Is Healed, Why Isn’t My Heart Feeling Better?

For those of you who read my blog, you know that for the last eight weeks, I’ve had serious ups and downs (mostly downs) while recovering from my broken foot. It’s been an experience in humility, that’s for sure, on multiple levels…and has now become a story I tell strangers in waiting rooms. “You will not believe this when I tell you…” my story begins.

On Monday I saw the surgeon again. He showed the pretty naked-foot, my bones illuminated before me, and I could still see that slight line that looked a little unfocused. “How do you feel?” he asked me.

“I feel great! Super! Just terrific!” I did talk with exclamation points. I’m not sure if I was trying to convince him or me. Then he pointed out that little chip at the edge of my foot. I didn’t need to see it. I already knew it was there.

“You see, this is the part that’s concerning,” he said. “In this type of fracture, in this bone, sometimes the healing just…stops.”

I probably could’ve told him that too. Over the last year, I’ve done a lot of healing, but part of me has just stopped. I feel stuck. I feel…still…sad, even when I’m using exclamation points. And I don’t want to go on and on about love or the absence of love, but come one, it’s Valentine’s Day almost. Through this year, I left my husband, developed a relationship with a man-I-could-have-loved, said goodbye to him when he committed to someone else, put myself back in the dating scene where it seems that though men have been interested, no one has taken that extra step in getting to know me beyond the surface. My mom says I’m just too beautiful and talented. Man, I love her for that.

Mostly, I worry that there’s something broken in me. Something you need an X-ray to see. A little chip near a healed fracture. A part that won’t heal.

The surgeon gave me some good news. “I’m hopeful,” he said. “You’re healthy. You’re in shape. You exercise. Your attitude about this is good. You can go without the boot, but I want to see you in a couple of weeks.”

And then it’s more X-rays. And maybe it’s surgery. I’m to the point now that if that’s what I need to do, I’ll do it. Anything to be able to walk and run and wear heels again.

I wish the answer was as simple for my heart.