Okay, we all know life’s not fair, right?
Like it or not, we encounter circumstances in which justice simply doesn’t prevail. The bad guy gets the girl and the good guy loses his fortune. It’s reality—no sense complaining about it.
I’ve mostly let go of the silly habit of lamenting life’s injustices, but once in a while something occurs that demands a little outrage. Some events are so outrageously unfair that they demand righteous indignation. Yesterday, I experienced one such inequity.
I sprained my ankle.
That’s right—a guy in a wheelchair, paralyzed below his chest, has a sprained ankle complete with baseball-sized swelling and the beginnings of a lovely greenish-purple bruise.
Basic story: I was transferring from bike to chair, slipped, and fell with my foot trapped under my body.
So you’re wondering—what’s the big deal? You’re sitting down anyway. It’s not like you have to walk on it. Quit griping.
True enough. But my body has this odd response to pain—the affected area is prone to muscle spasms. So I’m trying to type, and every few minutes my leg does its best impression of a jumping bean, rattles the table, and attempts to kick a hole in the wall. This is disconcerting and tends to interrupt the flow of creative inspiration. And banging against the desk probably isn’t going to help the sprain heal.
Want more evidence of injustice? I can’t ride my bike because the footrest presses against the swollen knot, which seems to irritate my foot and induce even more violent spasms. So a guy who doesn’t even use feet or legs to crank is prevented from exercising because of a sprained ankle.
Anyone with a disability, injury, or illness will affirm that it’s frequently the small details that tend to be most irritating. I can deal with rolling around in a wheelchair. It’s tough to compensate for a foot with an independent mind that starts jumping around without warning.
I’m not really complaining. It’s a minor, temporary setback, and I’ll be up and around (so to speak) in a couple of days. Actually, this incident reminds me of some important principles.
- Stuff happens. It’s not a grand conspiracy designed to destroy my plans. Small setbacks are just part of life.
- Make the best of a situation. Instead of sweating on a bike path, I’m sitting on the patio beneath a cloudless blue sky, foot propped on a pillow, with a cup of coffee. Things could certainly be worse. (How To Discover Gratitude)
- Humor is an effective approach to adversity. A friend admonished me to “just walk it off.” I need to find more sympathetic friends.
Becky wants me to see a doctor. Why? “Don’t walk on it for a few days” isn’t going to help much.
Do you ever find yourself becoming upset with minor setbacks? How do you get beyond them?
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