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What It Takes

My friend Joan says she wants to do a triathlon. At first I think she’s kidding, but then I see she’s not. Not for a second. Goals have become a big part of her life since she was paralyzed at Christmas time by a staph-induced spinal infection. She plots them carefully, methodically, each one bigger than the last. Given that five months ago doctors said she’d end up a quadriplegic, and that she’s now getting around quite well on one arm crutch, a triathlon doesn’t seem so out of the question.

Some of our readers and advertisers sent get well wishes and inquiries about Joan’s health after I wrote in January about her near death. Thanks to all of you for your concern.
I have to say that watching her progress has got me thinking quite a bit about what it takes to survive a crisis. Another friend of Joan’s commented recently that she wasn’t sure she could accomplish what Joan has in the same situation. I resorted to a cliché that I think is valid: You don’t prove your mettle until you’re tested.

Roberta Greenwood writes in this issue about the volunteers who work with clients of the Eastside Domestic Violence Program -- women who’ve broken the cycle helping other women struggling to break the cycle. They, too, have had to leap from one goal to another, like jumping from stone to stone in a river to reach the shore. And while safe landings are a lot about getting up the inner grit to jump in the first place, trusting that you’ll make it is so much easier when other people are there to support you. Whether it’s walking three steps or a block, or crossing the finish line in a triathlon -- or leaving an abusive relationship to start a new life -- support is vital. I know I couldn’t have made it through the trials in my own life without the love and guidance of friends.

Joan often says how grateful she is to the friends who’ve accompanied her on her daily walks, holding on to the back of her waist belt to keep her from falling should she lose her balance. Each time she has gotten a little further, first with a walker, then with two arm crutches, now with only one. Each time out her steps are surer. Who knows? Next year, she may very well cross the finish line in a triathlon.

Happy landings,

Karen Reed-Matthee
Editor

©June 2006 Caliope Publishing Company