The Best Laid Plans

I think it is funny how the Universe aligns to ruin any sort of progress I try to make…

But let me start at the beginning…

Last semester (Spring 2012), I started losing weight. I was running everyday, and I had limited how many sweets I ate per week. I was counting calories everyday. I was even drinking more than eight glasses of water a day to make sure I was drinking enough. It worked for a while, I lost about twenty pounds within the first two months. Then classes got really hard, and I fell off of the healthy train again. It was freshman year all over again, and I went crawling back to my ice cream and chocolate for emotional support because all of the stress was getting to me. And just like that I gained back five pounds. But I managed to keep the rest of the weight off through finals, and then summer hit! OH SUMMER! It became my savior, that intermittent time between semesters when I don’t have anything to do but improve myself and learn. I made plans to diet and workout all summer to continue losing weight and to get fit. It seemed fool proof at the time.

THE PLAN:
* start karate
* start kickboxing
* workout everyday
* eat only 1200 Calories a day
* drink lots of water
* no processed sugar

This summer was going to be amazing! I was going to get thin, strong, and gorgeous. I was going to work so hard. The plan was there, I had set everything up. And it did go that way for a while. I was going to either kickboxing or karate everyday, and I could feel myself getting stronger. All of my muscles were getting more and more toned. But I noticed that I was not only improving physically. I have quite a few problems with self-esteem and confidence, but those were disappearing. As I got stronger physically I became more and more confident in all of my abilities. It was just the miracle I needed. My plan was turning out even better than I had previously thought! But as they say, “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” And as suddenly as it came, it was all taken from me. I got about a month of weight loss and exercise in before it was torn from me.

July 7th…I will never forget the day. I had spent the entire afternoon swimming with my nephews and a friend of mine named, George. Then we had had dinner, Papa John’s Pizza. It was delicious and I was still so happy from the food and the water. I absolutely love swimming! But we finished dinner, and I went into the study to play video games with my nephews. Just then, Lexia (my super adorable niece that’s a little more than a year old.) was on the couch. She was about to fall. I could see it in my mind’s eye, Lexia falling and cracking her head open on the table that was perched just underneath her waiting for her tiny, unsteady legs to give out. I jumped up from the bean bag and began running towards her. But my right leg didn’t like that, it slipped out from underneath me; and my left leg attempted to catch me. But he botched it, and instead, he twisted all sorts of funny directions. My body fell, and with a loud CRACK! I snatched Lexia just before she fell. But nothing comes without a price. Sharp pains kept coming and going, and I cried a little. I was hoping with all my might, that it was just a sprain. I wasn’t going to have a broken leg.

I called my new brother-in-law, Mike, cause he’s a doctor. I didn’t want to have to go to the Emergency Room. I didn’t want to have a broken leg. So I called him to see if he could come look at it and tell me whether I really needed to go or not. He came by with my sister, and sure enough. I needed to go to the ER. My world felt like it was falling apart. Everything I had worked for. All of my plans, and all the progress I made felt like it was nothing. “Back to square one, Hannah,” a cold voice whispered in my head. Arrangements were made, and my sister (who conveniently runs the hospital in my town) made sure that when I got to the ER there was someone waiting for me. They wheeled me to get x-rays, and my sister came down from her office to visit me. Sure enough, it was broken. I sobbed…I sobbed for the lost opportunities…for the wasted summer…for my own self pity. I sobbed and sobbed. My leg hurt, but the tears of pain had been shed long ago and now all that streamed from my face were tears of sorrow. They wrapped me in a splint and sent me home.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

On Monday, I went to see the orthopedic doctor! He took one look at my x-rays and started laughing. Then, still chuckling, he said, “Damn girl. You are a pro.” Then proceeded to tell me that I had broken my leg really badly, and I was going to have to get a metal plate, some screws, and a cable all put into my leg. The tears came again as question after question flowed from my mouth. Would I be able to run again? Would I still be able to do kickboxing? How long would I have to be on crutches? When would I be able to walk? Why did I have to have surgery?

But a month and a half, a surgery, and 3 casts later, and here I am. I still struggle with the whys…why all of this had to happen. But I try to push it away, I try to stay focused on the things I am learning from this experience, and the strength this experience can give me. I want to say that I have definitely become a better person through this trial that I have had to go through, but I am not sure that that is true. I will keep trying though. I may not be able to run, but I can still improve my physical body and I can still work on improving myself as a person. I am just grateful that when I broke my bone, it didn’t break through my skin. Hoorah! for the small and tender mercies of the Lord.