I surfed. Dog Beach. Malibu. I rode multiple (more than 2!) waves in one afternoon. Woo hoo!

Caveats: I did not pop up. I remained prostrate on a really big board while Jeremy (my good friend/personal trainer/physical therapist/surf master) pushed me into small waves. I rode those waves until I fell off the board.

That's surfing, right?

Right.

The day was gorgeous--clear, blue sky and beautiful ocean. The ocean water was a tad chilly, but I felt fine in my wetsuit and borrowed booty. (Thank you, Sarah.) Jeremy and I had the beach to ourselves on that particular Monday afternoon. I love being in the ocean; I adore surfing.

I chose to surf to acknowledge the 21st anniversary of the day I lost my leg.

April 16th, the day I lost my leg, remains significant. Perhaps the time will come when the anniversary is no longer a day I somehow dedicate to acknowledging the anniversary. Perhaps eventually I will not begin to recognize the upcoming anniversary at least a month in advance. The past several anniversaries were dedicated to grief (e.g., anger and sadness); by dedicating the most recent anniversary to a new activity, I made a statement about focusing on my abilities rather than my disability. Or so I believe.

Right now, I cannot imagine not prepping for the anniversary for at least one month. I cannot imagine not realizing sometime in early to mid March that the anniversary of an incredibly significant day is coming up. I don't even know if I want to stop acknowledging the day. I'm thrilled that this year I dedicated the day to a new activity in a medium I love (the ocean). I consider thinking about how I want to spend the day (San Francisco? surfing?) and reaching out to my support system to make the day amazing as a success in my battle against self-pity, timidity, stagnation, accident anger, and more.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Jeremy, for surfing with me on my 21st anniversary. The day rocked. You rock.

I will surf again on the Fourth of July.

P.S. Hey, Jeremy, the cat sat on the--

I did a spectacular face plant while walking in my apartment recently. Yep, I was having an amazing run and preparing for my next trick (i.e., another step forward). I miscalculated and went down, landing face first on the carpet. Ouch. Rug burns hurt, by the way. And they leave marks. For the first time in my 20+-year career as an amputee, I have injured my face in a fall. Somehow, I managed to sell myself on the possibility of the facial rug burns not being noticeable. Heh. Today, during my first public appearance after the face plant, I was asked by almost everyone I met about the abrasions on my face. Generally, the question directly followed the polite greeting (e.g., “Hi. What happened?”).  

The face plant is the last of three falls I have had in the past week. Yep, three falls while wearing my magic new prosthesis. Until last Tuesday evening, I had not fallen once while wearing my prosthesis in the seven months since I got my new prosthetic leg. (I did have occasion falls while on crutches.) So, 7 months sans fall and then 3 falls in 4 days. What’s up with that?

What or who can I blame? That’s what I want to know. I want to blame someone or something aside from myself. I am certain that none of the three falls involved mechanical difficulties, so my prosthesis is not to blame. Let’s breathe a collective sigh of relief on the count of three. One, two, . . .

My working hypothesis is my amazing prosthesis has lulled me into a highly elevated confidence in my ability to overcome wobbles. My Plie is so amazingly stable and secure that I have learned to throw caution to the wind at all times. If I can easily overcome wobbles while walking or standing upright by taking a few compensatory steps, I’m sure I can do the same while crouching and preparing to sit on a wooden folding chair resting on a slippery wooden floor. And while standing from a low couch with my right hand occupied in holding my cell phone to my ear. And while walking on carpet while somewhat tipsy. The time has come to reintroduce myself to using a bit of caution while maneuvering through the world.

One big question remains. Am I still a Weeble if I wobble and do fall down?