2 Reflections after 2 weeks on crutches

An exploration of feeling physical vulnerability.

Almost Everything Takes More Time

I sprained my knee, so I find myself hobbling on crutches and finding it a challenge to move … anywhere.

Whether it’s finding a more comfortable position in bed, getting myself dressed, or going to the bathroom, everything is now a challenge.

What used to be a minute-long, brisk walk to my car now takes 5.

I can’t trot up the stairs to my apartment anymore.

Now, I take a deep breath, lock my arms, stabilize myself on my crutches, lift my good foot up one step, pull my whole body up on my good leg, bring the crutches to my side, make sure I’m stabilized, and then repeat. And then every 5–7 steps, I take another breath because my shoulders/arms haven’t worked out this hard in ages.

😣🙄😑☹️😩😓😵

Two flights of stairs used to be nothing.

It now feels like a long, arduous workout.

Selfie after I finish going up two flights of stairs on crutches.

I found myself getting frustrated when I realized I forgot something in the car after finishing my climb to my apartment.

This is also one of the times that driving a manual car really puts me at a disadvantage since my injured leg is the one pressing the clutch.

Bouncing back and forth in the kitchen to prepare a meal is now a full body effort.

I literally could not put on a sock on my injured leg for a few days. 😡

But the biggest change is how much I think about how physically vulnerable I am.

😲

Feeling Physically Vulnerable

Even as I cautiously drive, I notice how much confidence I’ve placed in having an able body. My body is more tense, more sensitive of my environment as I drive, knowing that my body can’t respond as quickly if someone else swerves in front of me. Each time I step on the clutch, my leg hurts just a little, so I can’t do it too quickly. I find myself calculating each movement more to reduce the amount of unnecessary work.

As I hobble on my crutches on the way to meetings, I’m so much more cognizant of the fact that if someone were to come up, push me, take my crutches, or take my wallet or phone, there’s very little I can do to stop them, since fighting back would put me in a bit of pain.

Bottom line, I feel a lot more exposed and vulnerable.

😬😟😧😐

This is actually one of my first thoughts when I get out of my car and don on my crutches in public view.

When it comes to physical danger, I put a lot of stock in my ability to run, jump, kick, and be quick to protect myself or get out of trouble. I don’t have that right now.

How I sometimes feel now that I’m on crutches

Over the years, I’ve heard a lot of female friends talk about “feeling safe.” I could wrap my head around it in concept, I could imagine it, but it’s quite different to have a sustained experience that I can’t opt out of.

🤔🤨

I can rationalize all I want that “Oh I’m in a relatively safe neighborhood,” but it’s still a challenge to fully shake off the thought that someone could come out of nowhere and take advantage of my current lack of physical ability. As I’m in a public space, there’s a hum in the back of my mind that it *could* happen.

😬

Going 1 block in San Francisco takes me 10 minutes on crutches, and most of time it’s a mix of feeling the tiredness in my arms, keeping watch for every person who looks sketchy, making sure I don’t fall, and then taking breaks every 2–3 minutes. The thoughts get stronger when I’m taking a break — it feels like I’m announcing to the world that I’m tired and worn out. Yes, the odds are low that anyone is even paying attention to me, but… what about that *one person* who might notice that?

🙈😣

I now empathize more with my female friends with whom this might be a frequent concern and reality.

Being in an elevator with a group of strangers generally feels less safe. Poorly lit or maintained parking garages amplify thoughts of safety. Going past a homeless person who is erratically talking at every person they past makes me physically tense up. A group of *only* bigger dudes walking past me gives me a slight mental sweat.

Having a friend with me virtually eliminates all the thoughts.

The amount of mental/emotional bandwidth that this has occupied has not been trivial.

🤯😓😕

And in writing about this, I’m also empathizing with the level of courage it takes to write about a present vulnerability because sharing does not make you any *less* vulnerable AND it creates *more* exposure.

😬😮😱🤭

So on top of empathizing with the experience of feeling unsafe, I also have a much deeper sense of admiration for women who talk about experiences like these and sometimes having to explain to those who might not “get it.”

💪💪

I have much more appreciation for women who have brought up this as a topic when it comes to planning events and designing around it as an important need.

I think this is a classic example of how necessary it is to have diverse voices in decision-making rooms because we all have blind spots.

Case in point, I also have more appreciation for the people who were responsible for creating guidelines for urban development when it comes to disability. Every single time I see a ramped walkway available, I breathe a sigh of relief because it’s that much easier to go up a ramp on crutches than going up/down steps.

This experience, of course has been quite inconvenient for me on a physical level, but the handful of learnings and reflections as a result have been priceless.

😁😊💯💪💥

It’s been a 2 weeks since the sprain, so a lot of my swelling has gone down. X-rays were negative. Will see the doctor later this week to see if I need an MRI.

Silver lining: I’m going to have monster deltoids, triceps, and totally mismatched legs after this. 😂