In the days that followed my tragic foot fracture—don’t text and walk down stairs, folks!—I learned to loathe crutches. They were incredibly awkward to manipulate. Getting around was slow and tiring. They hurt my rib cage, rubbing the skin raw under my arms on long trips. I couldn’t carry anything. Stairs were a nightmare. And they were just plain in the way, no matter what I tried to do.

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