Once upon a time, there was a very stubborn woman who woke up at night to use the bathroom, stepped out of bed, and heard a terrible and loud ‘crack’ in her leg.  She collapsed on the floor, writhing  in agony from the pain in her right ankle. The pain seared through her entire body. This was no ordinary boo boo, she could tell. But when she was finally able to stand, she told herself it was sprained, and she believed that to be true.

“Walk it off,” she thought. “Walk it off and don’t be a big baby. You just turned your ankle, that’s all.”

This woman is me.

The next day, it was worse. It looked like some kind of poorly-trained circus balloon animal maker had tried to make an ankle out of black and blue balloons. The pain was beyond excruciating.  Still, for eleven full days, I wrapped it in an ACE bandage and acted as though it were business as usual.

I’ve heard it said that “if you can walk on an injured leg, it’s not broken.”  But whoever said that does not appreciate my capacity for denial. I walked on it, doing everything I normally would, just with a bit of a limp. It kept swelling. I walked more. It’s not broken, I thought. Or I wouldn’t be able to stand the pain.

If I’m honest about it, I can say that over the span of nearly two weeks, I developed a  twisted sense of pride that I could carry on with this OBVIOUS, swollen, throbbing issue attached to my leg. I felt like a badass, almost. Look what I can withstand!

The mind is a very powerful thing.

I had to become entirely ready for medical intervention. And eleven days after the incident, I could take no more, badassery or not.

“I think I’m going to the doctor to have it looked at,” I told my husband. “You know, just in case.”

The doctor looked at it, with a series of x-rays. It was broken, and there was no fixing it without surgery. I was sent directly to an orthopedic surgeon, who confirmed it and asked, “How are you even walking on that?” The funny thing is that on the way to the surgeon’s office,  I drove myself to the grocery store and hobbled around for ONE LAST TRIP for things we “needed” before I might be told I couldn’t drive. Keep in mind that I am blessed with the most helpful and supportive husband of all time, who would have been glad to go for me. Stubborn.

My inner control freak cannot be reasoned with.

But she can be beat down, which is what happened. By going to the surgeon’s office, I was ready to have this defect fixed.

By the morning of surgery, I was asking – BEGGING – for it to be remedied. The pain was too much to bear.  I humbly asked the surgeons to just do this thing already. They did, and it took a metal plate, five screws and a large pin to fix it.

Because I had walked around on it broken for so long, it was fractured in TWO places, not just the one original break. Stubbornness rarely pays off.

That was three years ago. Since that time, many things have changed, inwardly and outwardly. I don’t feel invincible anymore; I know I am a Spirit poured over breakable bones and under fragile skin.

The ankle has healed beautifully, although it will never be the same. You can feel the metal just under the skin, and it still swells at odd times. It has to be babied. It is affectionately referred to by my family as “Franken-ankle” now.

Step Six is admitting your unmanageable pain and knowing it’s not “just a sprain.” Step Seven is asking for help, and asking is an action word of the highest order. Ask God to remove your shortcomings.

Contrary to popular belief, you can walk around damaged and broken. Most of us are.

You cannot be prideful and humble at the same time. Handling it yourself isn’t working. Step Seven is all about humbling yourself and actively reaching out for help.

Now, ask The Great Physician to do a healing work in you to mend you back together.

Anything less – especially ‘walking it off’ under your own power –  is needless suffering.

You will never be the same.

But you will be whole again.