It wasn’t said with malice or ill-intent. It was said in that jocular, esprit de corps of runners everywhere.
“You walking?!”
A couple of fellow runners I’ve seen in the neighborhood over the years came across my lumbering shuffle, my early morning attempt to keep moving amidst this ongoing healthcare boondoggle I find myself mired in. “Orange Shirt Guy” and “Yellow Shirt Guy” were making good time jogging up the road toward me. We’ve never exchanged names… but we know each other on sight… and these guys ALWAYS run in orange and yellow shirts, presumably for visibility purposes… or maybe they’re both just Autumn colors guys.
I muttered, “I’m injured” and kept shuffling; I saw their joking faces fall with that look of pity and horror people get when they’ve said something that shoves one’s foot in one’s mouth.
But it was more than that – it was that look of relief on their faces that said, “better you than me.” I can’t blame them – I tried making deals with the devil to recover and look what it got me?
This past month has been a careening spiral downward. Attempts to resolve my pain when running have resulted in test showing a huge kidney stone that isn’t bothering me but “must be addressed.” A script for PT resulted in my visiting a facility that seemed to abide by the opposite of the Hippocratic Oath – first they did harm. I went from intermittent pain caused by running to constant pain caused by just “being” as a result of their “treatment plan.” What had been an attempt by me to progress toward recovery has damaged me further and sent me back a proverbial two steps with zero steps forward.
And now apparently somebody else has looked at a CT scan to determine I have something on my lungs which they don’t think is cancerous but who knows? It’s that kind of bedside manner coupled with all these non-running related issues that are not in fact impacting my quality of life in any way that has only sunk me lower.
Today then was just another twist of the knife when I was asked incredulously, “You walking?!” “Orange Shirt Guy” didn’t mean anything by it… and yet it meant a lot to me.
I’ve got ever more co-pay doctor appointments this week. I assume it will be just more of the same.
I miss running. I miss the stress relief. I miss the sense of self amidst the world and being a part of the world.
Sigh… 2020. What a year for us all.