The Breakfast Club

I’ve been struggling to come up with the words for this one. It almost feels like last week never happened…but it did.

See, it all started when 10 teachers – all from different disciplines – embarked on a journey/conference to Florida that would forever (most likely and hopefully) alter their perceptions about each other. Actually, the math department is being wholly excluded from this. They must have calculated the odds of things going awry and thus decided to “opt out.” Two English teachers, two history teachers, two science teachers, three language teachers, and one (pregnant) librarian boarded a plane in search of knowledge and a little fun in the sun.


The start of the trek home when the ridiculousness hadn’t fully set in

Aaaaaaand that’s where I’m going to stop with the story. I know, I know, I was just getting started, but here is my reasoning. As much as being on a trip with eight people I don’t know that well (the other English teacher is a friend) seemed destined to be boring and uneventful, it delightfully proved to be just the opposite. Conversations that would never have otherwise taken place between the members of this group – mostly because this group would never randomly assemble itself, especially for a prolonged period of time – helped us all to see each other in new and different lights. And no bond can be more solidified than when seven of those ten survive the eight-hour car ride from Philly to Cleveland after a cancelled flight, with all of our luggage strategically placed in every available open space as if we were living a game of Tetris. When your feet are pressed up against your fellow-man’s face, you get to know your fellow man very quickly and on a level you never thought possible. No matter what I say about the trip, my words will never do the experience justice.


The ridiculousness was palpable at this point.

We made it through the surreal situation mostly unscathed, and I think we are better for it. Friendships were formed and strengthened, fences were patched if not mended, and though some tears were shed, the laughter that was had outweighed it all. Oh, and I learned some things at the conference, too. I wouldn’t trade one second of the entire adventure.

And now for the long overdue update on the status of my hip.

Since my last entry, I’ve been keeping up with my physical therapy, strength training, and cardio. I completed my first open-water swim of the season in the warm, calm waters of the Gulf while in Florida for the aforementioned conference. I’ve jogged a total of 3 times on the treadmill, all while wearing that ridiculous harness. Last week Stephen said we could possibly look into a walk/jog program for home in the next couple of weeks, which was of course music to my ears. The best thing I’ve heard since then, however, was what Dr. Rosneck had to tell me today at my 6-month post-op check-up (so many hyphens!). He seemed honestly surprised that I was not doing more running, and when I told him what I have done up to this point, his response was “it’s time” for me to run. I wanted to hug him I was so happy to hear those words, but he did caution that I continue to follow Stephen’s guidance. I of course will follow Stephen’s direction as it has always proven to be correct, but don’t think for a second that I’m not going to quote Dr. Rosneck to him when I see him next week: “It’s time.” 

Pain is no longer in my vocabulary when it comes to the hip. I’m not naive enough to believe that I won’t feel sore from time to time after completing certain activities or working the hip-joint more aggressively, but the comfort I now feel lies in the fact that I’m no longer in pain all day every day like I was last year. I’m healthy, and despite being slightly traumatized from my Breakfast Club-like experience of a trip last week, I’m the happiest I’ve felt in a l o n g time.


Happy 6-month anniversary to my scars, Harry and Hermione! You’re looking good, friends.

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