The Invisible Black Woman

A little after I got the news from the ortho surgeon that I done lost all the cartilage on the inside of my knees, I did a few things. First, I panicked. Given how incredibly terrifying the sensation I was having on my knee was, I didn’t want to put any weight on it at all. At the height of the pain, it felt like something or someone was actively trying to pull my left knee out of its socket. And with panic came a slew of bad decisions. Okay, maybe just one. When I got home, I made a beeline for my iPad and started shopping for mobility scooters. And yes, in case you’re wondering, I impulsively ordered one. According to the surgeon, it wasn’t a matter of if but when I’d have to have the knee replacements done. From my perspective, I was sitting on a ticking time bomb—or so I told myself. I didn’t know when exactly my knees would buckle and give out completely. So, my “brilliant” thinking was I wouldn’t put any weight on them at all. I can’t tell you how terrifying it was just to walk around the house, not knowing which of the steps would make my knee buckle. And my fears were only confirmed by the excruciating pain and out-of-socket sensation I was feeling.

So yeah, I went and ordered me a scooter.

An hour later, I was on the phone with the office that was gonna get me fitted for my unloader braces. Divya was very helpful. She let me know what my deductible was at the moment and what I could roughly expect to pay out of pocket. Surprisingly, they had availability the next day at 11 for me to get fitted. Yay.

Right after that, having surfed online while I was on the phone about my braces, I found a place that would assess me for physical therapy. I specifically picked this spot because they had what is commonly referred to as AT, or aquatic therapy. It’s supposed to help you strengthen your joints while allowing you to put entirely too much pressure on them. SOLD.

After I got off the phone about the brace fitting, I called the PT place. I’d already filled out the form, so I was hoping I could lock things in, mostly before I talked myself out of it. As fortune would have it, they had a cancellation the very next day at 7 AM. Would I be interested? Ummm, yes! I took it as a sign from God I was supposed to go get myself assessed the next day.

The next day I got up earlier than I wanted to so hubby and I could drag ourselves to the place. Oddly, although I got up early, I was not moving anywhere near as quickly as I should have, so suddenly it was 40 minutes before my appointment when we headed out and Maps was saying it was gonna take us an hour and some change.

I was so irritated at myself. I really wanted to make it to the appointment on time, but the only way to do that was to do the thing we had sworn off for forever: take the route with tolls. Now the only problem with that is that we didn’t have an EZ-Pass. But I remembered that as long as you pay it within a certain window, they don’t fine you—or so I told myself to justify going the route with tolls. This was definitely a situation where I was going to have to ask forgiveness rather than permission and hope there was no cop waiting in the wings who needed to meet their ticket quota for the day.

Ironically enough, we learned that EZ-Pass isn’t even as common anymore. It exists, but as we’re about to enter the toll road, we saw a sign that said something like, “No EZ-Pass? No problem. We’ll take a picture of your plates and send you the bill.” I’m loosely translating because I don’t remember it verbatim. But yes, I was unaware that’s how most tolls roll now, at least in my area. Then I found out that if you have the phone app, it’s like half the cost for them to send you the bill in the mail.

Say less.

I had the app installed before we got to our appointment.

Just to be on the safe side, I called the office to let them know I was running late. I didn’t want to get canceled on having driven out that far. They were really nice about it.

Thanks to the toll roads, we made it to my PT appointment just about 5 minutes late. Of course, I still wasn’t walking at full speed and that added some “commute” time from the car to the office building, but at least I made it.

I signed in at the front desk had a seat in a chair that was entirely too snug for my taste and waited for my therapist to come find me…

Do you mind if we circle back to something I mentioned earlier? About panic and reacting instead of responding? I flag this because this has been my constant state of being at my job. There were days when I’d wake up at an ungodly hour with my heart beating out of my chest because I forgot to do something at work. I am ashamed to admit the number of times I scooted out of bed and headed to my laptop to finish whatever it was I forgot.

Or how about the number of times I was near panic meltdown when my boss would randomly schedule a meeting to discuss something. The amount of time I spent wracking my brain about what it could be, worried I’d messed something up, coming up with prepared responses depending on what it was they wanted to talk about, it was entirely too damn many.

I say all that to say that if your job has you in an almost constant state of panic, reacting like a coiled rattlesnake because of a hostile environment, it may be time to reassess where you’re working. Don’t ignore the signs and let your body make the decision for you.

Ten times out of ten, you won’t like how your body decides to make sure you finally get the message.