If you saw me (or saw pictures of me, above) at the 2022 Chef to Chef Conference, you likely saw my fancy new accessory: a medical walking boot.
In October, I suffered a catastrophic injury to my right foot. I was playing adult soccer, and I misplanted before attempting to cross the ball. I heard a crack and felt a surge of pain through my foot. My teammates carried me off the field, and my husband rushed me to the hospital where I was diagnosed with a Lisfranc dislocation fracture.
A week later, I was in surgery. The subsequent six months were filled with doctor’s appointments, casts, surgeries, more casts and pain. I wasn’t allowed to bear weight for three months. Then I was only allowed to bear a small percentage of my weight for a few weeks before I wasn’t allowed to bear weight again for another month. Then I had to relearn how to walk.
Everything about my life changed because I took one wrong step—or so I thought.
For a long time, I grieved my loss. It was difficult to be dependent on others. I felt alone and hopeless. Eventually, I sought help. I joined a support group for people with the same injury and, as a result of this group, my perspective began to shift.
The feed is filled with success stories about how far my peers have come since their injuries. The members ask questions and receive honest, helpful answers. There is no shortage of empathy and encouragement. (It’s not unlike the community within Club + Resort Chef and the Chef to Chef Conference).
At first I was doubtful, but slowly the group gave me something no one else could: hope.
I began to live by a new mantra: One day, you will tell the story of how you’ve overcome what you are going through now, and it will become part of someone else’s survival guide.
In October, I didn’t know if I would walk again. But then, slowly, I took my first step. Then I took a second, a third and a fourth. When you saw me ‘running’ around Nashville in that boot, that was a really big deal for me.
I’m out of the boot now, and I’m rebuilding strength, but my recovery is far from over. This journey has opened my eyes in ways I never expected, and I’m grateful for the highs—and the lows, too.
When you find yourself plagued with doubt like I was, it can be challenging to invest in the future you can’t even begin to visualize. Whether you’re staring down staffing challenges, supply shortages, demanding members or something else entirely, I promise that there will be a swing in the other direction. And when we get there, you will be much wiser because of what you’ve already been through.
But first, you must accept what you can’t control and look at the journey as an opportunity to rebuild, relearn and restart.
