Trying to Roll Forward through a Setback

I'm just about five weeks post-foot surgery and now my incision is infected, a major and dangerous setback to say the least.  I had been doing a bit of weight-bearing (hobbling to & fro about the house) and spending some time with my foot down while I worked at my studio table.  My doctor has forbidden all that for now so I am trapped on the couch again going more than a little stir crazy.  To top it off, I'm ordered to spend the majority of my day with my foot elevated above my heart which isn't the best position for drawing.  It is hard not to cheat with these severe restrictions but I'm doing my best impression of a compliant patient.  I figure that my doctors would rather not deal with a complete emotional and mental breakdown on top of everything else and that (hopefully) they'll look the other way a little when it comes to letting me have upright time to doodle in bed.

For the times when I must get up, this neat little piece of equipment has been my foot's chariot for the last few weeks.  After several hand surgeries and recurrent shoulder issues, I can't use crutches so this knee scooter was the solution presented by the surgeon.  It really zips along on open, smooth surfaces but is a bit more of a hassle in tight, carpeted spaces (like my apartment.)  Still, it keeps my foot off the floor while rolling me from point A to B.

I showed you a photo of the actual scooter so you could compare it with the drawing I did in my journal.  Whew!  This was really, really hard to draw and my rendering is waaay off in many places.  The proportions are all wrong, the wheels aren't round, and the scooter's frame isn't anywhere close to correctly depicted.  However, none of that matters to me in the least.  Long after this ordeal has resolved itself, I'll look back on this journal entry and remember exactly where I was, what I going through, and how I got through it.  The photo of the scooter presents a perfect representation without any context or emotion - a snapshot without sentiment. On the other hand, my drawing is an imperfect rendering rich with memories, a doodle with depth.  That's exactly why I'm going to keep my pen moving, no matter how wobbly my lines.  The antibiotics and doctors will save my foot but my art will save my spirit.


Claudia MB said…
Does it help to think about Frida Kahlo, and how much she accomplished (and endured) while she was immobile in her bed? Hang in there -- it can't last forever.
thalia said…
Journaling, both art and written, help to deal with the ongoing crisis occurring in life. Don't know what I would do without those tools.
Anonymous said…
Hi Michelle:

You have my sympathy. I had a total hip at the beginning of May - and it became infected. I have now been in the hospital for two months....receiving i-v antibiotic therapy. I have a small sketchbook and pens....they have helped my sanity enormously.

Anonymous said…
Hang in there. I broke my foot twice in two years so I feel your pain.
All will be well i am sure. Art will save your soul and bring you more happiness along with a good health. Whatever you present here, it is always a joy to see your artwork.