The Dignity of Risk

Or why you should do more stuff that scares you.

As I type this, I’m gearing myself up to put on my roller skates and go to Roller Derby practice with the B team for the first time.

This is a pretty huge thing for me. I played Roller Derby for 7 years before the pandemic. Then, obviously, there was no Roller Derby for about 2 years. By the time everyone was going back to practice, I was having Cancer Treatment and had a crushed vertebrae, so no Roller Derby for me.

As I recovered, my orthopaedic surgeon said I could run on a treadmill because it’s more cushioned. But I hate treadmills, so in June 2022, I tentatively started Couch to 5k. It was terrifying, but I did it anyway, and two years later, touch wood, it’s been okay.

My Haematologist told me that I was in as good a position with my bones as I could be, as I was on Zometa¹ and had no evidence of active disease, but that Myeloma could cause microscopic damage that increases fracture risk and that high impact sports weren’t recommended. In September last year, I very cautiously put my roller skates back on. I’ve been pootling around and helping coach the rookies, but I’m getting frustrated; I feel I can do more, I WANT to do more. So I asked if I could get signed off to join in B team training. I don’t know how it will go. Everything is baby steps, and sometimes 2 baby steps forwards followed by 3 gigantic leaps backwards. But what I do know is that I am a grown-up, and I can make my own decisions.

Last week, I posted something similar on Instagram and Moth.Dance left a comment.

Dignity of risk ✊

Dignity of risk is a phrase often heard in elderly or disability care. It means you have the right to make your own choices, even if those choices involve risk. Let's face it: Roller Derby and Running, in my example, were never risk-free anyway, and living with cancer doesn’t mean I’ve given up the right to choose to take risks.