One-Crutch Wonder

When babies take their first solo steps, their faces often light up at the amazing feat they've just accomplished. And, boy, look out, because now they have places to go!

I know that feeling.

Recuperating from knee surgery, I am learning to walk again. While losing my independence has been a drag, every bit of progress makes me feel this wild sense of glee.

When I went in for my first PT session, I was asked to warm up on a recumbent bike for five minutes. I could barely get my knees to go around in a circle. My pedaling was so slow that the machine didn't even register I was riding it.

Two days later I woke the machine. As it beeped and flashed, I knew I had made progress. Once a given during the first few seconds of a workout, that beep was now a major achievement. I inwardly beamed with pride. I did that!

The day I felt confident enough to go down from two crutches to one was thrilling. It meant I could run errands on my own. Once a chore, the prospect of running errands meant freedom.

The day I could wear jeans again was also a banner day. Not only did it mean the swelling had gone down enough that I no longer had to walk around in my pajamas, but it also meant I could hide my prickly legs, still yellowed from iodine and sporting purple-green bruises. Once casual wear, jeans were now my fancy dress.

These were baby steps to be sure, but they seemed monumental. I was on the road to independence.

With each regained ability, I continue to thrill like an intrepid baby exploring and engaging with the great world around her.

There are still frustrations and setbacks. But as the stiffness subsides with each passing day, I think I might just be OK after all.

Even as my knee catches and I lean heavier on my crutch, I tell myself that soon I won't need that final crutch at all.

As babies learn to walk, they have their fair share of tumbles. But they pick up their diaper-laden bottoms and move on undeterred.

I find inspiration in that and hope the same for me - minus the diaper part.