Hey Beautiful

I got a "Hey beautiful" from a man on the street yesterday.

Which if you live in New York, and you can be identified as a woman, is not that unusual (although the market slows down in the winter due to un-beautifying bulkiness of down coats).

But I was caught totally off-guard as I was limping down the street.

I feel so enveloped right now by my hip, not only the physical pain but all the worrying and wondering about surgery (which is also waking me up way too early in the morning) that I don't really feel like anything else but my hip exists. When I first was diagnosed and up until I started making inroads towards surgery it felt like a small part of who I was, like a little alien creature in my body. But now it's practically the only thing I think about, and I feel like my personality - my existence - has been taken over by my disability.

On the positive side I make no bones (excellent pun and the first of many) about sitting at the front of the bus in the disabled people seats and spending way too much money on taxis (which have always been my guilty pleasure). But I am glad to realize - to remember - that I am more than my gimpy hip. Usually when someone yells out at you on the street it's kind of annoying, but I am grateful for my anonymous caller for reminding me that even as a gimp, I am still beautiful.

Of course he may have been a loon, but I'll take it where I can get it.