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Crutching Around
by Jenny Thai
Three-and-a-half inches of hot pink foam rubber. That was all it took to ruin what would have been the summer of my lifetime. As if by freakishly bad luck, I tripped on my niece's sandal late one night while at my parents' house and broke my left foot just three days before I was to off fly to Brighton, England to study abroad for the summer.
I remember hearing my bones crack as the entire weight of my body fell onto my foot. Immediately, my usually emaciated-looking foot swelled to the size of a mini football and throbbed with pain. Even at that point, I somehow managed to convince myself that I could walk off the "little sprain" and that nothing would stop me from getting on a plane in three days.
Unfortunately my "little sprain" was actually a complete fracture in the fifth metatarsal of my left foot, requiring orthopedic surgery to correct. Rather than exploring the British seaside, I spent the summer at my parents' home with my foot stuck in a cast. It was one of the greatest disappointments I had ever experienced, but not so much because I was missing out on a trip to Europe. What I had hoped would be a journey of personal growth towards greater independence turned into the opposite.
I was far from being entirely immobile that summer (I had crutches), but some very simple tasks became challenging and I had to rely on other people to help me. I couldn't get myself a glass of water if I was thirsty since I couldn't hold a glass and my crutches at the same time, so my mom or sister would have to bring me something to drink. From meals to the remote control, everyone in the house had to bring things to me. It never occurred to me before what it would feel like if I were physically incapable of doing those things.
I grew depressed that summer; all I wanted to do was to go abroad and discover if I could be self-reliant and make it on my own. Instead, I couldn't even stand on my own two feet.
When I returned to school in the fall, I was still on crutches. I normally enjoyed the hilly campus of Berkeley, but being on crutches meant that it took me twice as long to get from class to class. When I showed up to my destination, I was usually drenched in sweat and the muscles in my arms burned from over-exertion. I never thought that opening a door to school buildings would be challenging either, but trying to balance on one foot while leaning on a pair or crutches with a backpack strapped onto my shoulders and opening a heavy door was a lot to handle. I greatly appreciated people who would open doors for me, but I often wished that I could just open the door for myself like everyone else.
Strangely enough that semester, it seemed as if there were more people on crutches than ever before. Perhaps I just noticed them more since I was on crutches myself. At the same time, their presence on campus made me feel less self-conscious about walking too slowly or slowing down the people behind me when going up or down a flight of stairs.
One day on campus, I noticed a man walking on crutches ahead of me. He moved with little effort, while I was limping along. As I watched him speed ahead I started to push myself to catch up to him. I had spent all summer sitting at home feeling physically incapable, but I didn't want to let my injury hinder me anymore. The injury certainly wasn't slowing down the man I saw.
With my eyes glued to the man ahead of me, I imagined myself being in a race, quickening my pace and pounding my crutches into the pavement so that I could pass him. When that moment came, I felt triumphant. Nobody else on campus was aware that an impromptu track meet had just taken place, but for the first time since I broke my foot, I no longer felt that being physically disabled (temporary as it was for me) necessarily meant that I couldn't rely on myself to accomplish small feats.
My foot has healed since, but being injured that summer gave me a newfound appreciation for the physical abilities I once took for granted. I sometimes forget that I was supposed to go abroad that summer and I no longer feel as though I missed out on anything. Crutching around all summer was a trip in and of itself.