Lessons from a broken leg

For those in my?network who don't know, I broke my leg back in September. I wish I could tell you it was an all-exciting adrenaline sports accident, but alas, it was not. It was as simple as walking back to my hotel room from a dinner out with colleagues in New York - wearing sneakers, not even high heels. I slipped on a grid in the rain, and there it was a broken leg.

Here's what I've learnt so far:

1. Life is beautifully unpredictable. You can think you have it all figured out, but life has a way of changing in seconds. You have to roll with the punches. Just don't forget that new doors open when others close.
2. There's more compassion in the world than you think. From my boss (Tom Berry), who was with me when I took my fall, and my colleagues Izzy Brantingham and Caroline Shaw, who helped me in New York for days. To strangers who became quick friends (Danielle (Dani) Teman) to the ambulance crew, airport porters, nurses and just generally strangers willing to help when they see you struggle. There are great people in this world.?
3. A parent's love is unlike any other. Freshly back home in South Africa from a recent trip to visit my family in the UK my mom didn't think for a second about hopping back on a plane to come help out once she heard the news about my impending surgery. She's been cooking, checking up on me and taking wonderful care of my one-and-a-half-year-old alongside my husband (who himself has gone above and beyond, and I am so very grateful for him). I just hope I can repay both of them (minus the broken leg on their part).
4. Surgery takes it out of you. I was unlucky; I experienced a Weber C break - which meant surgery. A titanium plate and multiple screws later, I woke up tired and in immense pain. The first?few weeks were just brutal, and at times you just feel totally tired. I'm very grateful for MWW, which has let me work from home during my recovery.
5. You are going to be both more frustrated and bored than you thought possible. Doing even the most simple of tasks for yourself or those around you will not be possible - and it will take a toll on you mentally as you feel helpless. As a fiercely independent person, this experience has crystallised two things. 1. I could never live a life dependent on others. 2. At some point, you have to be willing to ask for help, as hard as it is. And then there's the boredom. Limited mobility means limited ability to do anything. You have to learn to be kind to yourself. Also, any recommendations for a series to watch over weekends once the small human has gone to bed will be gratefully received.
6. If you're not dead, it's just a bad day. Not to be flippant about mental health, I take it very seriously, but that statement is true. Think back to the last moment you thought your life was coming crashing down around you. What happened? Against all the odds, you made it through; after all, you are reading this now. We, as humans, are more resilient than we know. This is just another challenge on the road of life, and without challenges, you won't grow.
7. Be grateful. I am. Not only do I have amazing and supportive people in my life, but I will also recover. For that, I'm grateful beyond measure. Being grateful for even the small things on a daily basis gives you perspective and a bit of hope. It's not all bad.

Halfway to recovery, I'm sure the lessons aren't over. It's been a wild ride, though, so I thought I'd share.