There’s something almost ridiculous about it.
I’m healing.
I’m getting stronger.
I’m learning how to move around in this wheelchair without killing myself.
I’ve made it through surgeries, wraps, pain, and all the rest of this broken ankle business.
And now one of the biggest obstacles in my life is about six inches.
That’s the drop from my apartment door to the sidewalk.
Six inches.
It doesn’t sound like much when you say it out loud. But when you’re sitting in a wheelchair with a bad ankle and trying not to fall forward onto concrete, it feels a whole lot bigger than six inches. Every time I go through that door, I think about it. I haven’t fallen yet, but I respect that drop every single time.
That little step is the difference between being inside and getting outside.
Between being stuck and getting a little freedom.
Between looking at a beautiful Biloxi day and actually being part of it.
And that’s what frustrates me.
Because what I want is simple: I just want to walk again. I want to get outside without treating my own front door like an engineering problem. I want sunshine, fresh air, and the feeling that the world is open again.
Today I’ve got a nurse coming by at noon to look at my ankle. I took the wrap off yesterday. It hurts, and she’ll probably wrap it again. But I also want her to look at this doorway situation, because the ankle is only part of the story. Recovery isn’t just about bones healing. It’s about being able to actually live in the space you’re in.
That six-inch drop may not look like much in a picture, but right now it’s one of the biggest barriers in my day.
Funny how life works.
At 80 years old, after a lifetime of programming, problem-solving, surviving, and pushing through, here I am staring down one stubborn little drop at my front door.
And yet, I’m still here.
Still healing.
Still thinking.
Still planning.
Still wanting my life back.
So yes, it’s just six inches.
But right now, it might as well be a mountain.
And I’m going to find a way over it.
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