It’s official, after Sunday’s event my friend Tom said “You have the most awful luck! Remind me not to stand next to you when lightning is threatening!”
I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t stand next to me in that situation either. And recommend that you don’t as well.
Sunday Dick and I went house hunting. At house two my stocking feet slipped on the carpeted steps to the basement. I landed 2 steps up from the bottom step, unable to stand without Dick’s help.
We made it to a couch and the realtor who was showing the house brought me a 10 lb. bag of frozen strawberries (!) to wrap around my right ankle. (This is not the ankle I tore up and the foot I fractured in 2017. This is the right ankle—I tore it up in the 1980s, slipping on an icy step, if you remember my mail art from that time!)
After about 15 minutes the heavy wave of pain was dulling down. Dick returned from checking out the rest of the house at my suggestion (I didn’t want the fall to be for nothing!). I told him if I didn’t put my boot on now I’d never get it on. The realtor was happy to get me booted and out of the house, away from all the prospective buyers.
Dick and I had driven separately to the house, we’d gone out on a whim because of the photos on Zillow.
While I couldn’t take a step without help I felt convinced that my boot was stiff enough and heavy enough that I could drive. We were only 15 minutes from home and the route was a low-traffic parkway. We agreed I’d try to drive one block and pull over if necessary, with Dick following.
Funny thing is adrenaline can help you do pretty much anything. Humming loudly, and gulping now and then, I drove home successfully. I washed the tears off my face, peed, and got back in the car with the help of Dick and Phyllis’ old cane (which was still in the back hall at our place). Dick drove me to my orthopedic surgeon’s practice because they have Urgent Care.
It was a slow day at the Orthopedic Urgent Care. A tech wheeled me off for X-rays, a physician’s assistant assessed my mobility and read the X-Rays , and an assistant’s assistant fitted me with a new air-cast.
Imagine the boots worn by the storm troupers in “Star Wars,” that’s what the boot looks like. And it has “pump action.” Once your foot is velcroed and latched into place you pump it up to provide a custom fit to contain your injured parts.
The great thing about these boots is that you can actually walk right away, and without a ton of pain.
Today, I’m walking around on it with very little discomfort. (I take it off to ice it, and I try to always put it back on for walking about the house, because yesterday when I didn’t the pain got pretty intense again.) Of course my foot has lovely shades of blues and purples.
I’ll see the doctor in 10 days. The P.A. didn’t see any breaks. Based on the levels and locations of my pain she thought I’d torn my ligaments.
My first thought was of course that I would now miss the rest of the cycling season. I’d finally started to make a come back after the time off with the cataract surgeries.
We won’t go into what my second through fifth thoughts were.
Of course I grumbled when we got home, “I’m going to die in this house.” To which Dick responded, “No we are moving Cutie Pie.”
We wanted a one story house mainly because I don’t want to deal with stairs any more (duh!). But we’ve been looking in an area were the architecture tends towards multi-levels because I really wanted to live near my biking route. I think I’m going to have to compromise.
I think we all know how this is going to end.
Dick is going to have to bake chocolate chip cookies on his own this evening!