It’s been a roller coaster the last few days. Both physically and emotionally. I think I have finally worked through each stage of grief and it’s been exhausting. As you probably know, I fractured my ankle on Sunday and today is now Thursday. This morning I woke up hopeful. I woke up feeling thankful and full of gratitude. Yes, I broke my ankle on my backpacking trip and I’m limited to one city and minimal activity right now but do you know what? It could definitely be worse. I have all my limbs. I am not paralyzed. I am still alive. I get the opportunity to heal in a beautiful country with the kindest people. A country I’ve always had a love and fascination for. A country where I’ve been studying their language for two years. I am still overall healthy. I have friends here. I’m at an incredible hostel that actually has an elevator and handicap shower (this is so rare for Europe, especially the handicap shower). I’m in southern France so it’s sunny every day and in the 70s or 80s. I am alive. I am here. I am present. A few weeks out of my whole life is nothing in the grand scheme of things. Everything is going to be okay.

I spent the first couple days upset, frustrated, sad, and depressed. I was still finding little moments of gratitude during the day, but they were far and few between. Those crutches are hell to get around on. You cannot carry literally anything with them. So I was spending most of my time in my dorm in bed and not coming out for food or anything because I couldn’t stand having everyone do everything for me. Every time I went downstairs to order food or coffee at my hostel, they’d bring it to me and pick up my dishes for me. Everyone is so nice and I never really had to ask, they always just offered. I felt so bad and embarassed. I always do everything for myself.

I have been binge watching Love is Blind on Netflix and reading my book which is the 5th book in the ACOTAR series. I have just been laying with my foot propped up, but I’ve been finding time each and every day to hobble downstairs and sit outside in the sun for a few hours while I enjoy some coffee. It’s my favorite part of the day. If you know me, you know there’s nothing better than a warm sunny day. It makes everything better. I just sit and let the sun hit my face and I just think.

A couple nights ago, my local friend Lola stopped by to visit me. She actually stopped by the night before as well but I had accidentally fallen asleep when she was here. But we were able to meet and we enjoyed a great conversation over a pint outside on the terrace at my hostel. Lola always makes me feel better. I told her the full story. When I got to the part about the local French people picking me up and carrying me off the railroad tracks, it gave her goosebumps. We shared a lot about our lives. She gave me some more phrases in French that made me feel better. The French people have a lot of fun, whitty little phrases here about life that just make sense. I love to learn them. I got to practice some French and she got to practice her English. It’s funny because we both know Spanish so when we are at a loss for words in French or English to speak to each other, we will just start talking Spanish. I think that’s so fun that we can do that. I learned more about Lola’s life and she learned about mine. I am genuinely so thankful to have a friend like her here.

I also got a grocery delivery from Deliveroo delivery services and the delivery man saw me in my crutches and offered to bring all of my bags up to the fourth floor to my room for me. I was so appreciative.

Yesterday morning I woke up to say goodbye to my roommate Shawn. I was so sad to see him go. He was heading to Paris to meet up with some friends. We agreed that we would meet in New York when I came back home someday. We spent so much time together laughing and talking. He kept me such good company while I was secluded to my room. He did a lot for me. He also was a bright light in my dark storm. He just made me feel better. I am going to miss him. The goodbyes truly never get easier.

I was laying in bed when I got a notifcation that my scooter had tried to be delivered but when I wasn’t downstairs to accept it, they took it to a business nearby. Great. I had to hobble my ass with my crutches somewhere? It was only a 2 minute drive or 8 minute walk. I could barely walk downstairs at my hostel to order food. How the hell was I going to walk that far with these crutches? I checked for a nearby Bolt to drive me there but it would cost me $15. Not happening for a 2 minute drive. I wobbled my way downstairs. I was already tired and in pain. There was no way I could do this. I went and I did it. It took me over half an hour to do the 8 minute walk. I had to stop and take multiple breaks. I was sweating so bad. But I did it. I was determined to get this scooter.

I went to walk up some stairs with some crutches and an elderly lady started speaking French behind me. I turned around and she was a beautiful, tiny, elderly French lady with white hair and I’d guess in her 80s. She told me she wanted to help me up the stairs. What? This elderly lady wanted to help ME up some stairs? There’s absolutely no way I could accept that. My heart swelled with gratitude for this country and the people in it. I should be the one helping her up the stairs. I told her it was alright and that I was going to go around to the ramp instead. I had multiple of the locals offer to help me during this journey of a walk here. They are so thoughtful and nice. I finally make it to the business where my package is. I hobble in, sweating, hot, in so much pain, and out of breath. I looked like an American physchopath. I asked them in French if they had my package. They help me take a seat right away while they went to look for it. I was talking in French with the ladies sitting around the table. They were asking where I was from and what happened. They then asked where I was staying. The man who grabbed my package googled my hostel and told me he would help me outside and to get into his vehicle. This man who was a complete stranger in a foreign country who could barely speak my language demanded that I get into his car. Apparently all of my survival instincts were masked by pain and desperation because I immediately did as he said. I didn’t care. There’s no way I could make that trek back to the hostel and survive it.

I get into his car and he’s actually very kind. He’s my age and we had a nice chat. Well as far as my chatting could get me in French and his in English. He opened my door for me and everything. He helped me out of his vehicle when we arrived and helped me walk up the stairs with my crutches, but I’m an idiot and was going too quickly so I fell on the top step, landing on my left ankle. The broken one. My soul left my body in pain. Tears immediately came to my eyes. I couldn’t let this man see me cry though. He was worried and asked if I was alright. He dropped me off. I offered him some money and he refused. I genuinely am in awe of these people every single day.

I sit down immediately and put my scooter together. It wasn’t too difficult to do. I started zooming around right away. I was so fricken happy. I was having a little too much fun with it. I took it outside and started racing down the sidewalk like an insane person. I felt so free again. I could MOVE. I Facetimed my mom and zoomed around for her so she could see. I was so excited and happy. I love talking to my mom. I’ve been calling her extra lately since I’ve been feeling so down. She literally always makes me feel better and knows what to say..

I maybe got a little too brave with it because I was getting out of the elevator and turned it very sharply and it tipped over, making me land once again on my left foot. This time with all my body weight. I thought the pain might kill me. I’m nervous that I hurt my foot more by landing on it twice in one hour. I just needed to slow down and pay attention to what I’m doing. I’m a fast walker in general so this has not been easy.

I got the knee scooter from a company online in Germany and it shipped the same night and arrived two days later. It was so fast. It has given me freedom, hope, and happiness again. I’ve just been zooming around since I’ve gotten it, although I’m still trying to take it easy and rest with my leg up. I can carry things now and get further than ten feet without being tired and in excruciating pain. The pain has been pretty bad. I feel like I’ve taken way more meds than I should just to keep it at bay.

I was hanging out and talking to my roommate last night. He’s from France and works in Bordeaux so he stays here every week Monday-Friday. He’s very nice. He laughed at me riding my scooter around our room last night and told me that watching me ride my scooter around is like watching a cartoon. I laughed. Fair enough.

I woke up feeling good this morning. After my meds kicked in, I decided to go downstairs to the gym. I was able to do a full body workout and worked out for about 40 mins. That’s a start. I just wasn’t able to workout my left leg. That was fine. When I am done with this journey, my right leg is going to be so strong, tan and muscular from my workouts and pushing my scooter around all day and my left leg will be small, white, and hairy with withered away muscle. Real attractive.

After my workout, I went up to the handicap shower and took a full body shower which took me forever again. I then came downstairs and did all my laundry and have been practicing my French. Now I’m sitting outside and writing. This is a really nice outlet for me, so if you’re here, thank you and I appreciate you being on this journey with me. I’ve still been making friends and Lola is supposed to come by to visit me again tonight. Everyone here is so kind and I’m grateful to be in France. It’s supposed to be sunny and in the 80s the rest of the week, so I hope to feel good enough to make my way to the beach for a few hours to lay out, read, and tan. We will see how it goes though.

The shitty thing is that even if I did want to fly home and heal at home right now where it would be so much easier and I’d be with people who could care for me, I couldn’t because I quit my job where I had health insurance. So I’d have absolutely no healthcare when I returned home to America which would ruin me financially and I’d spend years in medical debt. So I have to stay in Europe to receive healthcare. How messed up is that?

I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss some things about home. I miss a good bloody mary and a good old fashioned. I miss sitting on the deck with my best friends, sharing drinks and talking about life. I miss work. I miss running 911 calls and sedating people and intubating people. I miss my adorable little patients. I miss hugs from my mom. I miss spending time with my sweet sister and raising hell with my brother. I miss playing with my nephews. I miss my cranky bearded dragon. I am so grateful for this journey I’m on and to be able to see the world in the way that I am, but I do miss home sometimes.

Much love from Bordeaux, France. It’s an incredible place.

xo,
Kals