
After taking a zero at Uncle Joes motel and fishing camp, I felt a need to move on. I arrived there anticipating buying some prepared food. Instead I was surprised to be told there was leftover lasagna in the refrigerator that I could have. After gratefully downing the lasagna and taking a nap, Trip, who I had been hiking on and off with arrived. Both of us were treated to meatball sandwiches that appeared to be on the house. When we went to pay the bill we were charged only for the campground, which was $20 a night. Later that evening a woman told us she had brought homemade taco soup to the bar and we were welcome to it. I was touched by this generosity and the familial atmosphere of this unique RV park. It influenced my decision to take a zero day, hoping my foot would improve.

I was dismayed later that day when the owner came into the bar and started complaining about how little they’ve gotten for all the food they’ve given to people. She ranted on saying, “people should be offering a lot more money for being fed.” It was hard for me not to feel it was directed at me. Jersey, who worked behind the bar, replied to the owner, “Hikers don’t always having a lot of money, but the locals certainly could be contributing more.” My thought was I and other hikers would be glad to offer something for the food if we knew it was expected. A sign expressing those expectations would go a long way.
I could feel myself being pulled back into childhood places where I never knew what was expected of me. Nothing I did seemed to please my mother. When I was older, I remember a conversation I had with my mother. I told her one thing that had always been difficult for me was her lack of being clear on what she wanted. I explained to her how I always felt bad about not getting it right and felt her words caused me to feel guilt. I remember being shocked when rather than a denial, which was her usual mode of response, her reply was “So what. Everybody does that.” I was horrified to learn that in her world it was perfectly acceptable to be indirect with your desires, and to heap guilt on people when they didn’t guess right. This opened my eyes to how common it is for many people to not ask directly for what they want and to expect partners and friends to be mind readers.

I recognized some of those tendencies in myself and have worked at getting better asking directly for what I need, especially with people who I’ve come to know as safe, people who will be clear with what they’re willing to offer and who won’t later shout at me, “How can you do that after all I’ve done for you.” Amazingly I have never felt this from any trail angel, but I have had multiple therapists say this to me, especially when I was feeling suicidal. I recognize they said this to me out of their own fear, but it was still harmful to our therapeutic relationship.
It is still sometimes hard for me to accept help and ask for what I need without fear, shame or guilt. I’m determined to use this situation with my injured foot on the Florida trail as an opportunity to get better at asking for what I need, knowing that no one is required to give it to me, but unless I ask, I’ll never know. And if someone can’t give it to me, it doesn’t mean I was wrong for asking. 

I left Uncle Joes, knowing the upcoming walking was not difficult. But after one more day of hiking with a very painful foot, I connected with Trail Angel Kate, who assisted me in connecting with Pam Casteel. I wrote about Pam and her family in my Mary Christmas blog. Pam generously offered to make a six hour round-trip drive to pick me up and give me a place to stay while I figured out what to do with my foot.
Luckily, there are some good medical clinics near Pam and by speaking up for what I wanted and jumping through multiple hoops, I was able to get the care I needed. I worked to not feel I was doing something wrong when one place told me they couldn’t accept my insurance and also couldn’t tell me how much I would owe them. They didn’t tell me this until I was at the appointment and when the clerk implied my request for the financial information was unreasonable, I worked not to take it on. As much as I didn’t want to, I chose to go to the hospital emergency room. I suspected I would need an MRI because that’s the only thing that showed the stress fractures in my foot the last time. The hospital refused to do an MRI even after the x-rays showed no problem with the foot. By advocating for myself with a cooperative nurse I was able to get a prescription for an MRI that I could take to one of the many private places down here in Florida that offer MRIs. I even got the nurse to order it stat so that I would get the results in just a few days.

The MRI office was quite friendly, but they insisted on sending the results to the doctor who had ordered the MRI. I knew the hospital wasn’t wanting to deal with it so I found yet another doctor to whom the results could be sent. It was in his office at a sports medicine clinic a few days later that I got the results showing a stress fracture and some tendinitis in my left foot.
I was surprised when this doctor told me that that as long as I had an orthopedic boot on my foot, I could walk on it. The problem was my insurance would only cover one orthopedic boot every five years. I had gotten one just last summer when I broke my foot in Washington state, but that boot was in my house in Vermont. Trail Ange Debbie from the CDT heard my need and had a boot overnighted to me in Florida.

The sports medicine doctor said I could go back to backpacking in two weeks if the pain was greatly reduced. It left me a bit unsure as it was such a different approach than what my doctor in New Hampshire had used. This reminded me of all the times in my life when I’ve gotten mixed messages and felt lost and confused.

Rather than giving in to the lost feeling, I’ve decided to gather as much information as I can, and then trust my own body and instincts. I’ve spent a week resting my foot. I got new boots without zero drop which are firmer and more supportive. Knowing I had walked on crutches for 36 miles of the continental divide trail, I borrowed some crutches from the Casteel’s. Remembering the horrible blisters I got on my hands while crutching the CDT, I tried to find well padded gloves. When I failed to find good gloves, Pam gave me the great idea of using pipe insulation. I got a 5 foot length of some really cushy pipe insulation and covered the handles. I also cut two pieces of insulation that I can slide my thumb and pinky through to give me added padding if I need it.



With the help of Trail Angel Steve, also known as Blueberry, I will slack pack some paved sections of the Florida Trail on crutches. If that goes well, I will go back to thru hiking the Trail.
I struggled with asking for Trail Angel help, feeling I was asking too much, knowing that in the bigger scheme of life my hike is not all that important in the world. But after giving it much thought, and with the help of supportive friends, I’ve taken people up on their offers to help. Recognizing that not only is this an opportunity for me to ask for what I need and accept the help that comes, it’s also an opportunity for me to feel I have some ability to direct my life when I’m in physical pain and the world around me seems out of control. As an abused child, I never felt I could have any say over my life, except through rebellion and putting walls up against people. By breaking down the walls and leaning into the frustration of yet another injury on trail, I’m finding I can heal those Little places in me that felt powerless and alone. In the end, this kind of healing is more important than whether I finish the trail or not. But who knows, maybe by asking for what I need and taking the time to pay attention to my body I might be able to heal those Littles inside AND complete the Florida Trail.

Time will tell. All I can do is take one step at a time and see what happens. I’ll keep you updated in future blogs.
#floridatrail #nationalscenictrail #nationalscenictrails #thruhike #thruhiking #thruhiker #cdt #continentaldividetrail #did #ptsd #healingtrauma

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