Growing up, I watched my dad navigate a pretty erratic schedule, as most farmers (turned grain haulers) do. You get what the season and the weather gives you and go from there, especially with sleep. From my youngest memories, I keep with me my dad’s definition of a nest: a mattress where you can flop and power nap, no matter how filthy you are, or how little time you have. For years, his was a twin mattress on the floor of my parent’s bedroom (old farmhouses with walls knocked out can provide some pretty epic spaces!). He’s old enough now that I don’t think a floor bed is as good to rest in as his recliner, but the nest concept lives on in our family with how we handle the moments and days when someone isn’t well; we make them nest!

Typically our nests include sheets draped over couches and then pillows and blankets brought from bedrooms, but this week, I had ankle surgery to repair a torn ligament (and scrap out scar tissue) on my left foot making a legit nest a necessity for me. The thought of using crutches to get down to my basement bedroom is terrifying, so instead, for at lest my two weeks of non-weight bearing, I am set up with a twin bed in our living room (because sometimes, old houses in town that don’t look spacious actually are!), named, of course – The Nest.

Surgery itself went well (in and out in about 3 hours) and I am getting around OK at the moment with crutches. My foot itself is still waking up from the nerve blocks they did prior to surgery and the sucker is wrapped in inches upon inches of bandages for the next two weeks. No on my family can believe how big it it and it too has a nickname – The Rhinoceros Horn. While I can navigate fairly well with the crutches, it is really hard to keep that heavy bandage elevated and I know my hips are getting a heck of a workout just getting from my nest to the bathroom.

Already I’m having to ask Ben and the kids, my mom, and my friends to do a lot for me because I’m still wiped from surgery plus I just physically can’t do a lot of my normal stuff. Quite frankly, just getting up the five steps into our house with crutches once was enough for me; I think I’d like to stay in my house and in my nest until my follow up doctor’s appointment in two weeks, thank you very much! And actually, because our village is doing such a good job of taking care of me, I may be able to get away with just that.

So far we’ve had a meal train for Ben and the kids (didn’t want to require folks to also do my dietary rules) overflow with offers, and I’ve had several friends and family bring me vegan + gluten free soups which I am loving because they are easy on my system that’s already dealing with a lot here in the early recovery days. Elevating and icing is a whole regimented routine, so thank goodness I don’t have to worry about anything beyond following those schedules for the next handful of days. Also, this is really good practice for me of letting others carry the load; that ‘s a shift that’s been needed for a while and maybe two weeks will be enough time for these habits to stick.

In the meantime, I’m going to keep elevating and icing (and medicating, which bless his heart, Ben is keeping tabs on for me), while also resting and hydrating. I know this leg is going to wake up soon and then it will be a whole new ballgame, so slow and steady, day by day, I’m going to navigate the recovery of my rhinoceros horn and eat a heckin’ lot of delicious soup.