Still on the Ground

Surgery cancelled. Again.

This is a follow-up to From the Ground Up, where the injury happened, what it looked like, and what it taught me in the first few days. This post picks up where that one left off.

It has now been almost 20 days. I am still immobile, leg elevated above my heart, on daily blood-thinning injections, waiting for a confirmed surgery date. The injury itself has not changed: a broken fibula, fractured tibia, torn syndesmotic ligaments and a dislocated ankle. What has changed is the waiting.

Each delay compounds the situation. I am genuinely concerned about the long-term effect on my leg, the continued impact of the blood-thinning medication, and the muscle wastage that has already started. They are visible, measurable and accumulating worries.

The Particular Weight of a Cancelled Date

When I was first given a surgery date it was nine days away, and that felt like an age. Those nine days passed quickly. Since then my surgery has been bumped twice, both times after I had fasted in anticipation. There is a particular kind of disappointment that comes from preparing yourself mentally, physically and emotionally for something, and then nothing happens, again.

Each time, you recalibrate. You build yourself back up toward the next date, manage the hope carefully trying not to invest too much.

The disappointment is real. What I have learned is that it does not have to be the only thing that is real.

The Perspective Shift

My surgery was likely deferred to make way for someone in a more urgent or critical situation. Someone sicker, in greater danger, someone who may not have the same time option available to them. When I look at it that way, the disappointment moves toward gratitude. As difficult as my situation is and feels to me of those caring for me, I am grateful not to be in a worse one.

It is not a small shift and does not remove the frustration or the concern. But it changes the frame enough to make the waiting bearable rather than corrosive. Perspective is not the same as positivity. I am not pretending the situation is fine. I am choosing to see the fuller picture and letting that inform how I carry myself through the part that is not fine at all.

Patience Is Not the Same as Passivity

My mum always said I was impatient, and this experience is also teaching it to me. Not the passive kind, but the kind that coexists with action. I am making daily calls to the hospital to stay visible and ensure I am not lost in the system, checking in with the GP because maybe they can help move things along, but unfortunately I dont know the surgeon general. I am advocating for myself while trusting the process, both things at once.

That balance is harder than it sounds. There is a version of trust that becomes an excuse for disengagement, just waiting and hoping. And there is a version of advocacy that tips into anxiety and control. I think its in the middle ground where patience actually lives: doing what you can, accepting what you cannot, and not letting the gap between the two consume you.

The surgery will happen and the recovery will follow. And in the meantime, I am choosing to focus on what I can control, and to be grateful for what I have, rather than defined by what I am waiting for.

Still on the ground. Still moving forward. These two things are not as contradictory as they sound.

Let's Talk

If this resonated whether you are navigating your own waiting room, managing a setback, or simply thinking about what patience looks like in practice, I would genuinely enjoy the conversation.