This morning I was looking at Facebook and happened across Mike Rowe's latest post. I'll freely admit it, he's one of my crushes. Dirty jobs ... I'll give you a ... never mind, I regress.
Any how, he had a wonderful veteran's day related post about this guy named Travis Mills. You can read more about Travis here (http://www.travismills.org/) or look up Mike Rowe's FB post.
Travis, to make his story short, got blown up. Blown up big time to the extent he lost all his limbs. Now this is someone I can look at and think "damn, I didn't go through anything!" and a million other things, but while I can admit I did visit that spot briefly, it didn't last.
Instead as I read about him I thought "yes! someone else who GETS it!"
What is the it?
It is the position of having to deal with something that everyone else tells you they couldn't do. I have no idea how many times I've been told "I couldn't do what you've done" in response to my crash, recovery and what I've done since. It's hard to explain how that makes me feel. First off, I don't take it as insult or anything negative, but more often it sends me into this introspective place.
Most people don't want a reply to that statement other than thank you. Some times I want to answer them. Standard reply is "I hope you never have to find out." I guess it's odd to me because I probably would have said the same thing before I got my body rearranged. I couldn't do what I've done. Nope, no way, no how.
But when I was in the situation I didn't think I was going to die. It never occurred to me to just give up and stay in the wheelchair. I don't know how to explain it, but it seriously wasn't something I invested a lot of time into thinking through. I just did it. That's why when people say they couldn't do what I've done I think "well that's just plain silly, of course you could!" Through my eyes it's not special or amazing, it's just what I needed to do.
If I really get hyper critical I do know that no, not everyone can do what I've done. Not everyone has the stubbornness, determination, attitude, and humor to keep on going. I've seen the ones who have given up. I've seen the ones that frankly have a much easier road to travel that I did and they don't even bother looking where they might be able to go.
I think for me, the issue becomes one of humility versus pride when I discuss what I've over come. It means the world to me when people share how I motivate them, how impressed they are, etc. at my journey, but at the same time it makes me feel like "who the hell do I think I am, I'm no one special." My closest friends have chimed in on this when I bring it up and their opinion is that I should embrace the fact that I defied odds to be where I am. Defying the odds means that I did make my own odds up. My initial diagnosis was filled with lists of things I most likely wouldn't ever do again. Fortunately I had a surgeon who never gave me that list.
Funny, I always give him credit for letting me try things and doing things in an unconventional way. I have told the story a million times of how he left my arm the way it is (non-union) despite being told her could do it simply because "you don't know Karen." I have always given him credit for that ... always ... great doctor who made that choice. It's been about 11 years since that surgery and it never occurred to me until just this moment that I was the one that inspired him to make that choice.
Damn ... I can be really slow at times. I never looked at it from his point of view. What everyone else he consulted with saw was an arm that couldn't and wouldn't work. What he saw was a woman who'd beaten other odds and would attempt to beat this one with the same fight and attitude as the rest of the battles. He told me at the time he told his colleagues "you don't know Karen." Funny, I guess I don't always know Karen either. I'm getting to know her though.
To come back to my original point ... in reading about Travis I found myself connecting with his attitudes and words. So much so that I ordered his book. I so identified with his "I'm just me, only different" attitude because that's how I feel. Yet, I can look at him and be in awe of what he's done. I think he's helped me bridge the gap between pride of accomplishment and ego. For me to publicly celebrate my accomplishments has always made me feel like an egomaniac. Look at me, I over came all this ... what have you done with your life?
I never want to be that person. Weird thing is in being that person, I've negated what I have done. That really isn't far to me and it is holding me back from attacking what I still want to accomplish. I'm starting to realize that I can be so very proud of myself and that beyond that I have to let go of how people take that. Those who know me, know I would never use what I've been through to make them feel bad, but I've worried that I could give that message to others. Now I realize that I can't control what people take from my story. I've had a lot of wonderful people tell me how I've helped them in little ways here and there. To me that keep me going, gives me hope, and reminds me to keep fighting. I'd rather keep fueling myself and the people who need it than worry about offending someone who was looking to be offended and hurt.
Guess maybe it's time to let this blog be a little less private ....
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