Wednesday I did something I've been thinking about for years. I went to see an old friend. He's someone who very literally knows me deep inside. He put me back together on my darkest day. He helped me become who I am today.
I saw my trauma surgeon, Dr. Carlson.
It's been a while. A good 11-12 years. I think of him often and tell the tales of what we went though more often than you'd expect, but that is part of having the uniqueness of a non-union above my left elbow.
We met over 22 years ago. It was completely by the luck of the draw that he got me. It was his night on call. I don't know what my alternatives would have been, I never bothered to find out. I've always just been thankful for it being him.
Believe it or not, I was nervous to see him. I almost bailed out in the parking lot and then again while waiting for him. I knew why I was there, I just didn't want it to turn into this awkward "yeah, ok, thanks, who are you again?"
I went because I wanted to show him who I've become and what I've done with this body he put back together piece by piece. I wanted to show him the results of his faith in me and what I could do with what the crash left me. I wanted to thank him, to say the words to him, not just about him.
They called me back to see him, I rounded the corner to the hall, a hall I'd been in many times hearing great news and the worst news depending on the appointment, and I saw him. He'd aged. God knows I have too. He was younger than I am now when we met, but time has been kind to him, he's aging well.
His face lit up as he saw me and he embraced me in a huge bear hug. That caught me by surprise and I expressed my fear that he wouldn't remember me. That got me a "pshaw" noise and he launched into how he still talks about me to other patients. He check out my arm and leg, I showed him how Lefty works now, and he was amazed. Then he, being a doctor and all, started going into things we could do if I wanted. Ways to make my arm and leg normal. To make me normal.
I cut him off. I stopped him mid sentence. No. Nope. Not interested. He interjected with a but we could ...
No. I'm fine how I am! He asked me what I've been up to, was I still in the library, what's going on. So I told him - fishing with the guy, doing 5ks, lifting weights, doing things, you know?
He stepped back, shook his head from side to side, and started laughing.
I told him I'm unique! My arm is awesome! Never found anyone else like me!
"Yep, you're fine. I've never had another like you! But if you ever ................ "
Yes Dr. C., if I ever, you will be the one, but right now I am happy with my body and what it can do. I can marvel at what it still lets me become.
We chatted a little bit more, then he had to get to a patient, he bear hugged me goodbye and I left.
I got in my car and realized how fast I told him no to more surgery. Even a few years ago I would have jumped at the chance to be "fixed" and "normal." Take me to the operating room, make me like everyone else, please and thank you! It stunned me to understand that I have finally made peace and have acceptance. It's been a long time coming and it will never be a perfect peace, but I felt a sense of comfort knowing I'm embracing who I am.
I did think to tell him about all the people who have told me what I can't do with my arm, many in the last year. His response, much like his reasoning for letting me be this way, was "they don't know." See, that's why I have my crazy, no functioning but bending elbow. Because of being me. I just wasn't until my conversation with him Wednesday that I realized I'd finally become who he saw all those years ago.
"You don't know Karen."
That was his reasoning for it all. For doing the unconventional. For choosing an option that was not recommended. For ignoring "you can't do that!" and all the rest of the consulting advice he received.
He's right. Nobody knows. Not even me ....
