There are different types of freedom. Sometimes we talk about freedoms on Independence Day. Sometimes we talk about freedoms when we study different cultures. One freedom we don’t talk about very often is the freedom of getting around on our own on a daily basis. It’s one of the freedoms that we don’t really notice until it’s gone.
Girlfriend and guest blogger FEOSHIA DAVIS was recently reminded of this when the ability to get around (temporarily) disappeared from her life. She tells us of the wonderful job her girlfriends did in bringing sanity, friendship, and transportation to her. What’s your advice for her as she continues to recover?
“I think your foot is broken.”
I seriously didn’t want to believe it, five minutes after Sarah’s (my sister) pronouncement, a golf-ball size lump grew on the side of my right foot.
It was one of those stupid accidents. It was a Wednesday, and I’d been walking along with my niece. We’d picked her up from her second day of kindergarten, and going from the school building to the parking lot, I stepped in a small pothole. In wedges. My foot turned sideways and when it righted it broke.
I thought for sure I could “walk off” the pain, but within a half hour I was in the urgent care, leaning on Sarah. The x-ray confirmed it. I’d fractured my foot!
The worst part – besides the broken bone – was that my husband was in Chicago, a 7-hour-drive away from Cincinnati. He was training for a new job, and would be gone for weeks, flying home only for the weekend.
In those first couple of weeks, I called on my girlfriends. And, boy, did I need them. They were the first responders on the scene! The night I broke my foot, my sister set me up in her basement, made a bed out of the couch, and brought my meds and anything else I needed.
I headed home the next day, and it was a bit of a blur. I spent the day sleeping off and on. My sister and girlfriends checked on me, asking if there was anything they could do. There was plenty, and everyone stepped up.
My friend Elena picked up my husband from the airport on Friday, since I couldn’t. That same night she also brought me a pint of my favorite ice cream. We sat on my porch eating Graeter’s Raspberry Chip and drinking Chardonnay.
That weekend, a woman I knew only through Twitter, loaned me her crutches after a desperate tweet looking for a pair.
Monday my husband flew back to Chicago, and was a darling that weekend. But my girlfriends again came to the rescue. Jessica took the morning off work to drive me to my orthopedist appointment. She opened doors for me and held my purse, while I slowly hobbled on my borrowed crutches.
As we walked into the waiting room, another patient asked if we were sisters.
“Friends,” we answered, smiling back.
Later that week Jessica spent some time with me, driving to my home after work. She brought more ice cream, and navigated my steep driveway to get the mail that had been collecting in the box all week. We spent the night watching HGTV and talking, learning more about each other and growing more in our friendship.
Then there’s Cara. I posted on Facebook saying I would totally welcome a visitor during the week. She said she’d be off work on a Wednesday and would come over. That day she took me out to lunch, and we did a little shopping. I’d found some great, thick-soled flip-flops (on sale!). I really needed them to balance my gait because my boot was so thick that I walked unevenly, causing my hips to hurt.
Cara and I had been work acquaintances, but were new in our friendship. It was nice to sit, eating chicken salad sandwiches at a mom-and-pop restaurant down the street, getting to know each other.
As I write this, it’s been two weeks since I broke my foot. My sister has invited me to spend the night with her and her family so I won’t be lonely while my husband is away.
It was really painful, and just a bummer, to break my foot. But, as you’ve read, there’s been a bright side to it. Over the years, I’ve tried to be there for my girlfriends, emotionally and physically, because I care about them and want to make their lives just a bit easier and happier.
It’s great to know that when an emergency happens, I will have great women – girlfriends – to lean on. I am not alone.
FEOSHIA DAVIS is a former daily news reporter turned blogger and freelance content provider. She lives in Cincinnati with her husband and two cats. You can follow Feoshia on Twitter @feoshiawrites www.twitter.com/feoshiawrites.
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