Back Home and Bed-Ridden
After more than a week at home, I can’t say I am experiencing any reverse culture shock as not much of the world can be observed from the couch. The Thursday after flying into Portland and driving to Bend with my best friend through snow-capped pine forests and frozen rivers, I had knee surgery. The surgery ended up being an hour longer than they expected because I did far more damage than was originally anticipated. So now I’m on crutches for five weeks, unable to walk my dog along the river trail and window shop downtown and even wrap the Christmas presents I brought home from Ireland. I haven’t even been able to go to the grocery store to compare the prices of Irish milk to that from America. Although, I have gathered it is much more expensive here.
I am now completely at the mercy of everyone else around me. All the independence and self-sufficiency I gained since I left home has been thrown out the window. The good thing is that I decided on the long plane ride home not to throw myself a pity party while I am laid up, and more importantly, not to eat my feelings. I am going to re-read Harry Potter, learn how to knit, and build the strongest arms and abs my physical therapists have ever seen. So it’s really not all bad. Although, I have yet to have a mental breakdown about all this and knowing me, it’ll come eventually; and when it does everyone I know and love best be well out of ear-shot. But until then, my life back home has been downright pleasant.