Lessons of a Limping Lawyer

Snap... that was what my left knee had felt upon landing, after jumping during a badminton game seven weeks ago. My legs buckled, and I fell down sitting on the rubber court. The pain was excruciating. I was aided out of the court and into the mergency room by Ria Ag, Bambi and Jay. They kept me company while the doctors did their inquiries ("Ma'am, ano itsura mo nung nahulog ka?" ... hmmm... geez, pained?), x-rayed me and placed a bandage on my knee. The x-ray results showed no fractures nor dislocations (Thank God!) but the orthopedic surgeon's assessment the following day was a torn ligament, the meniscus to be exact. He initially wanted me to be placed in a cast for three weeks. I protested. I had a scheduled trip in two weeks! As a compromise, he placed me in a knee immobilizer, similar in principle to a cast but removable, and of
course, would take longer to heal. I had to walk with crutches and eventually with a cane. The accident couldn't have been more untimely. I was already starting to be regular with my weekly badminton game and gym sessions. I was helping out in the business I had set up with my brothers, which required closing the store when the mall closed. Lingkod's anniversary was coming up which would mean practices for the music ministry and coming up with a branch dance number for E-night. I had a planned overnight trip to Tagaytay for a unit day of prayer. True to its name, the immobilizer prevented me
from doing a lot of these things. I could not take my lunchtime walks along the Greenbelt elevated walkway. I could only bob my head in frustration when Kirk Franklin started rapping on television, asking "do you wanna revolution ...". It was downright frustrating.

A friend had said it was God's way of telling me to slow down. In fact, previous to this incident, a lot of my friends and family had been telling me to slow down and take a break. With an 18-day vacation leave coming up, I had thought this to be the break that I needed. God, as usual, meant otherwise. Slowing down in God's terms meant slowing down my pace of life. With my activities lessened, I now had more time to actually notice my surroundings especially while walking (procession would be more apt), to reflect and to talk to God in the process. It was in one of these conversations, while pondering on my current circumstance, that the Lord made me recognize and receive His peace. It was the kind of peace that came from living and relishing life, and not simply rushing through it... the kind that makes you feel unpertubed even when the world around you is turning mad.

My life had been one mad existence. Like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, I was always rushing from one activity to another. Fr Arlo, during his homily last Friday, said "You need to keep still, so you can listen to the Lord." My life was a clutter of activities. I had to be physically impaired, so I could keep still and listen.

And God had much to say.

First, PATIENCE. Being injured meant doing things that I was still capable of doing at double its usual time. When walking, my body would be on the first step but my mind would already be at the end of the
hall, urging my body to go faster. Going up the steps, or sitting and standing were as if I had a bad case of athritis. My doctor had informed me that the healing process would take a while. And that even after it has healed, there was still physical therapy and rehabilitation. For one used to a fast paced life, or to quick results, this was an area for growth. As Calvin's Dad would say "This builds character". When my impatience sets in, I take a deep breath and say to myself "This builds character." Sometimes, it works.

Second, APPRECIATION. It is always a truism that you start to realize the worth of something only when you've lost it. I had thought it quite unfortunate that I did not have the "long-legged legs" of models and instead, inherited the Garcia legs from my mother's side of the family. The results of genetics, plus the effects of years of ballet and competitive swimming on my legs, made me seek refuge behind long pants. You would rarely see me now in a mid-length skirt or shorts, not
unless I can't help it. Aside from the fact that skirts are the most inconvenient piece of women's apparel, they just revealed too much in my standards. My injury made me miss the use of my leg and the activities that I could do with one that functions normally. "Lord, di ko na lalaitin. Just please give me back the use of my leg".

Third, SENSITIVITY TO OTHER'S NEEDS. Even with the immobilizer and crutches/ cane, I still experienced being jostled, having the elevator doors closing in front of my face (while the people inside are simply staring back at you), having a swinging door close in front of me, being stared at, being blocked, and more. The worst one I experienced was probably when I was slowly going down the steps from the Food Court of my office building. I was holding on to the left railing to support my left leg. The girl behind me was telling her friend in a voice which could only be for everyone's benefit " Di ba dapat sa right? Di ba pag bumababa ng steps dapat sa right?". I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she didn't see the royal blue immobilizer on my left leg which had been worn over my black slacks. Maybe she thought it was a new trend in office apparel. Maybe she was blind. On second thought, maybe I
should just have shoved the immobilizer right in front of her face (joke!). I can only second guess why she said what she
said. But it bothered me enough to check as to whether or not I was that insensitive to people as well, especially those with special needs.

Fourth, PRIDE. Being injured meant having to ask people for help. And this was one thing I was most uncomfortable with. I would rather do it myself than bother or burden other people with my needs. I didn't like being or looking helpless. While I was waiting outside a restaurant with some sisters, I heard a little kid telling his sister "Tingnan mo siya o. Kawawa naman. Pilay." I was shouting in my head "Hindi ako pilay! Napilayan lang." A brother, Ryan, had said in exasperation "Karreen,
you know, all you need to do is ask!" as I was pulling an extra chair to bring across the room near my seat so that I could rest my injured leg on it. I had called it "being independent". In truth, it was named "pride".

All I needed to do was ask. In fact, sometimes, I need not even ask, as family, friends and even strangers, would offer unsolicited help. The extra attention had made me fidget. Unless it was something I really couldn't do with my condition, I'd protest when help was being offered. The words "pwedeng magpatulong?", "Can I ask for help?" (English version pag sosyal ang kausap), and "please" seemed stuck to my throat. The Lord pointed out that because of my pride, I was solely responsible for giving myself a hard time. Any inconvenience I experienced while injured was mostly because I refused to accept help that was readily available. Help was never scarce. All I needed to do was ask and accept. For me, asking and accepting had seemed like climbing Mt Everest.

I realized that this was pretty much the way I also dealt with God's love. His love is never scarce and in fact, very abundant (Man, it's infinite!). And His love has been very much manifest in the way He blessed, and continues to bless, my life. But I would carry these blessings as if they were burdens. I would say my prayer of thanks but at the same time, I'd ask God why He would bless me when I felt that it was undeserved, because I could not yet be deemed as His perfectly good and obedient
daughter. I looked at His gifts more because of what I did rather than simply because of His love and grace. As a result, I could never totally enjoy or relish (that word again) these gifts that He had given me and I was solely responsible for eventing myself from being happy.

I'm slowly starting to learn how to climb Mt Everest.

Fifth, FAITH. The Gospels the week after my injury had talked about having faith in God's power. The blind man had said "Master, I want to see". And Jesus restored his eyesight. I said "Doctor, I want to walk", and my doctor answered "We'll see".

The doctor had been non-commital when I asked if I would be able to play badminton or dance again. I had heard horror stories of players having to carry their injury for the rest of their lives. At first, resignation. I began thinking on who to pass on the reigns of the Dance Ministry in LingkodQC. I was already thinking of an alternative sport "Baka masaya naman ang game of the generals...." Then, objection. Dancing especially, which had been a source of joy, a means of prayer and a
medium for fellowship with fellow dance afficionados in the community, was something I was not prepared to part with. So I went into a miraculous healing frenzy. I applied healing oil from Manaoag every night, blessed myself with miraculous spring water flowing through the woods where St Elizabeth Ann Seton had lived, prayed at the foot of St Vibiana's tomb,
and texted everyone (I think twice or thrice) to please pray with me for a miracle. I told Him "Lord, I am relying solely on Your power for complete healing of my knee". But ironically, my acts seemed to show more of desperation than faith. I was seeking all possible means to ensure that I would get well.

Like the blind man in the Gospel, all I needed to say was "Master, I want to walk". And just believe that He will make me walk again.

Before I left, my doctor had told me to wear the immobilizer at all times during my trip. Although, admittedly, I did not faithfully comply (I took it off the moment I landed on foreign soil). And in fact, I had walked it unsupported the whole duration of my trip. When I got back, my doctor was surprised at how fast my knee had healed. I just wear a knee support now, minus cane and crutches.

It may take a while, but I truly believe in my heart that I will walk... and dance... and kneel... and play badminton ... and go to the gym again. I do not know when this will be. God probably wants to keep me still for now because it seems there is much He has yet to say to me. Ngayon pa lang, naka-lima na siya. But I am certain that this will eventually happen.