I don’t update often because I don’t often think of things I should say. Most of the time I want to make corny lists about the ten most wonderful things about loml, or why I’m in the best graduate program in the world, or seventeen things that I’ve learned about dance in cold war America this week…things I’m not sure that anyone but me is really interested in.
That being said, this thing has been on my mind. That, and I don’t want to post about how wonderful my family is (they are.) and how much I love Christmas (I do.)
A few months ago I wrote something about being injured, and how dancers have a different relationship to their bodies. I’m still channeling my warrior heart as I work through this injury, but this wasn’t the type of thing that stretching and conditioning was going to take care of.
Lord knows I’ve been conditioning. My leg might be broken (*read: not functioning the way I want it to) but I’m going to have the core strength of a…of Jeff.Anyway, five professional opinions later, I’ve opted for surgery to fix the problem. It’s gross and complicated so I’m not going to go into details but I’ll be in the hopsital for a couple of days, then on crutches for 8 weeks, then rehab for a few more months.
The surgeon said I won’t be in dance class again for a year. Or two.
Oh yeah, there it is. The scary thing.
I know I can sit in a chair and take class while I heal. I know that I continue to use my other “gifts” in the field (other people’s words, not mine). But it’s scary. All I’ve been doing for almost ten years is dance. When I’m sad, I take class. When I’m happy, I dance. When I’m inspired, I create a piece. When I’m discouraged, I take barre. When I’m alone, I dance around like a nutcase. It’s my thing. If not that, then what do I have?
I am nervous about having surgery. I am nervous of letting someone else (or a team of someone elses) be trusted with my body. I am nervous about not being physically capable enough to do everything on my own.
I’m having surgery on the 31st. Happy New Year! I would love and appreciate any of your messages, hellos, prayers, whatever. Because it is scary.
The P.A. said “This isn’t our first rodeo” when I mentioned my nervousness and trepidation. Well, sir, it is my first ‘rodeo.’
It’s going to be okay, right?
Love, b
wanderlust. 