The past few days have been surreal in terms of my mobility.

Every step is unbelievably difficult with my right leg. Pain radiates through my hip, groin, and down into my knee. I am taking tiny, shuffling steps between the bedroom and bathroom and calling for family members for things like water refills.

And it finally really really hit me this evening: I am wheelchair bound. Soon.

I mean that in a completely different way than I did before.

Earlier when I wrote about the wheelchair, it was still very much needed to help me with my perma-broken feet, as I am not able walk distances on them and the pain is intense at times. But I can make the feet go if I have to for a bit.

This hip is something else.

I must have an assistive device soon to help me ambulate at all. My walking is worsening by the day now. As much as I hate this, it is true. 😦

And I will, of course, do everything in my power to heal it. But I am afraid, as we know, my body does not heal well.

And I have quickly learned how much of the world – despite all of the progress that has been made – is not friendly to the disabled.

Over the weekend, my husband and I were going to attend a concert here in town with tickets that were a gift from several months ago. Taking into account that I would need plenty of time for rest breaks and whatnot to get to our seats, we arrived very early only to learn that the venue had begun charging a “premium” parking rate of $40 in the area of the handicapped parking including the handicapped parking. That’s right. A penalty basically for being handicapped.

Needless to say, we left. That was an absolute NO.

And I emailed the vendor the tickets had come from and they were profoundly apologetic and actually refunded the tickets. I was appreciative that they did so but that did not change the fact that we had to miss the concert and that the venue was doing this in the first place. It’s just terribly wrong.

I will be emailing the city where the event took place as well. This is simply not acceptable.

I’ve also noticed that many places are difficult to access so I am going to have to learn to navigate differently as I go about my day to day life.

I am also simplifying in our home and our day to day life as much as I can in every way. We are clearing out to make space for assistive devices and I am reducing some medications that obviously aren’t helping as well at an appointment later this week – and I am determined to get off of this infernal prednisone.

Tonight I’ve been looking through Pinterest – and crying (who wouldn’t) – and reading articles about navigating the world using a wheelchair and learning what to expect and making a board and doing all of the things a woman does when she has a stinker of a situation and has to figure it out – because, like everyone else who has been able-bodied their entire life, this is all new to me.

But I can do hard things.

I came across this blog post from another blogger that really touched me that I just wanted to share as my own “invisible illness” is now becoming so visible:

When My Invisible Illness Became Visible

And, lastly, as small thing that matters to me, to make me feel a little better – Thank you, Lord – I found about a million pins about wheelchair friendly travel – including this lady’s story –  which helped my feelings, when it comes to future plans with my bestie, that all is not lost:

It’s so nice that God is still in the little details, even on the hard days. 🙂

But, way, way, way before I get there, I have to make to the kitchen to cook dinner on a regular basis. And my appointment with the new hip doctor is next Tuesday. So please send all the prayers and warm fuzzies and good vibes you have my way. I need them.

Be well, everybody.

Grace and blessings.