Blessed.

Three months ago, my foot looked like this:

Today, it looks like this:

"You know, there are creams you can put on that," my mom told me this summer. But for once, I'm OK with being imperfect — I don't want to hide my flaws or deny that they are part of who I am. For the rest of my life, I will dance with a skinny red scar that reminds me I am human...that sometimes I break and need to be stitched back together. The process isn't without pain, tears, and frustration. But it is teaching me so much about who I am and who I can become. You don't know how brave you can be until it's the only choice you have if you want to move forward.

Tonight, I'm giving thanks for new beginnings, everyday angels, broken roads that lead us exactly where we're meant to be, and a scar that will never let me forget.

Bad Lights. Bad Camera. Action?

Trying something new this time: a video blog update in which I tell tales of torture boots, fight a Pilates reformer (and lose), and try not to get too teary-eyed while talking into a camera. Without further ado...

Back in Black (And Pink)

Once again, I've let this blog languish, but rest assured that no news is good news. I'm 11 weeks out from surgery and have been back to ballet for three weeks. My heart is happy, and I'm finally starting to feel like a dancer again! My first class back, I was the happiest girl ever -- I grinned like a goon all the way through barre. Although the back of my ankle is still stiff and sore when I point my foot, it is nothing compared to the searing pain I had before surgery, and I'm feeling less pain and more confidence every time I take class. At this point, I'm doing a full barre with some modifications. (For those who are interested and appreciate ballet jargon, this means no striking on frappes, holding balances on flat instead of releve, and doing some combinations at half tempo -- such as tendus and degages -- because pointing my foot too fast makes my ankle sore and tired.) I can usually get through the first two or three combinations in center, and while I'm not jumping or doing pointe work yet, I can feel myself getting stronger and hope I will be there soon.

I'm also happy to report that my last physical therapy appointment brought much more positive news than the one before it! In three weeks, I gained 15 degrees of plantar flexion (pointing), which is a huge relief -- especially since my pointed foot still doesn't look great, and my PT told me not to worry because it will come. (I think her exact words were, "This is not going to be a good time for your foot. Make your peace with it!") So, while my ankle continues to heal, I'm doing a lot of hip and glute strengthening exercises to get my body back in dancin' shape.

Every evening, I also have the pleasure of slathering my incision site with cocoa butter and digging into it with the handle of a dinner knife. The purpose of this medieval torture activity is to break up scar tissue and make sure that it doesn't restrict my range of motion or get tangled up with the many nerve endings in that part of the ankle. It's excruciating, but my scar does feel a little smoother. At the very least, it's well moisturized and smells like chocolate...

I see my surgeon and physical therapist a week from today, probably for the last time (at least for the surgeon -- I'm not sure how many more PT sessions I'll have after this). It's weird to feel this journey starting to wind down. I won't miss the 3 1/2-hour drives to Indianapolis each way, but oddly enough, I've always looked forward to these appointments. It's nice to know where I stand in my recovery and get advice on how I can keep improving.

Lately I've gotten a lot of questions and comments from friends/acquaintances along the lines of "So you're all better now?" and "I can't even tell you had surgery!" It's true that I can wear regular shoes, walk around without limping, and perform all the normal functions I need to get through a day. I'm thankful for that, especially since I couldn't do any of those things a couple months ago, but that doesn't begin to cover what I need to dance -- to fulfill the passions and aspirations that add magic into my life. Dancing is part of my soul, and it's hard to take things slowly and have so many restrictions and uncertainties. This story is by no means over and there are still many question marks, namely to what extent I'll be able to perform in Nutcracker this year (we start rehearsals in just over a month, and I'm not even back on pointe yet). That's another question I've been getting a lot lately!

This summer has been a crazy rollercoaster of ups and downs, but I'm comforted by the fact that I don't have to go through it by myself. I was listening to the Weepies song I posted on here a few weeks ago (the one with the Ted Mosby puppet in the video!) and was surprised to find that I'm in a very different frame of mind these days. "Now you do it on your own/But you find you're all alone..." is how I may have felt at times during my recovery, but the truth is that I have never walked alone on this journey. I'm surrounded by angels in the form of friends, family, coworkers, dance teachers, doctors, nurses, physical therapists, clinic assistants...they're all pulling for me. They care how I'm feeling both physically and mentally, and their encouragement keeps me going on the hard days when I feel so far from where I want to be. A heartfelt thanks to everyone who has supported me throughout this process and continues to hang in there with me!