The Agony of Da Feet May 24, 2011Posted by Toy Lady in just general griping, mirth & woe.
Sunday morning dawned warm and fairly clear.
Well, I say “dawned,” but I really mean, “pre-dawned.” It’s not quite light yet at 5, which is when we got up and headed out for the dog’s Sunday Morning Walk. It was a beautiful morning for a walk, though.
Peeps and I always walk the dog together on Sunday mornings – it’s quiet and peaceful (except for the rap-playing paper guy), and we’ve got all the time in the world, and the puppy certainly enjoys his extra-long walk.
Peeps wasn’t feeling well – he hadn’t slept well, what with a toothache keeping him up off and on during the night. Me, I slept through it like a champ.
So anyway, we agreed to keep the dog’s Extra-Long Sunday Morning Walk to a minimum.
We were walking along one of our favorite dog-walking streets, and, since it was later than usual (it was Sunday, after all!), someone had let their dog out into its fenced-in front yard for its morning constitutional. This was a mean, nasty, little ankle-biter kind of dog. A dog that (obviously) has no idea that any one of us (Jarly included) could step on him and end him – END HIM. The noxious little beast was all threatening and mean – all 6 pounds of him – probably insulting Jarly’s Mama, and poor Jarly, well, a dog can only take just so much, so I hustled him across the street before there were any problems.
Only . . . it didn’t quite work out that way, now did it?
One little mis-step off the curb, and my ankle twisted, and I came down with all of my (still considerable) weight on the side of my foot.
And it hurt. Wow did it hurt.
I did my best to walk it off, but within a couple of blocks, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to walk the rest of the way home, so Peeps (my hero!) left me with the dog for protection (?), and walked the rest of the way home to get the car.
We waited for the Greece Immediate Care facility to open – do you have those where you are? It’s not quite an emergency room, but they’re not a doctor’s office, either. They’re open for extended hours (though not 24), seven days a week. Kind of more a clinic, I guess. They accept health insurance (thank goodness), or they also see patients on a cash basis.
(These places have been popping up all over the place lately – The Boy availed himself of their services a while back when he was sick, unemployed and uninsured.)
Anyway, they opened at 9, and for a Sunday morning, that was great. I knew I wasn’t about to go to the emergency room AGAIN – I’d wait just as long at the ER anyway – maybe even longer.
So after about an hour, I was discharged, with a broken foot.
Not the whole foot, mind you. An avulsion fracture to the fifth metatarsal – the little bone that connects to my pinky toe.
But that’s enough to keep me on crutches and in a stiff-soled show for (maybe) 4 to 6 weeks. I say “maybe” because I can’t be off my feet for a month and a half! I can’t even be off one foot!
And that’s my driving foot!
On the bright side, though, I can wear my hand-knitted socks before I finish the second sock in the pair.
Or, alternatively, they’ll wear out half as fast.
Of course, the one (half) pair of socks I’ve gotten finished don’t go at all with the boot thing.
Oh well. I can pair “rose quartz” with, erm, medical blue – I’m crazy like that.
Of course, it looks like that’s been done before, anyway, judging by the blend of purple, pink and blue that’s currently decorating my poor foot.
And poor Jarly – besides being confused beyond measure by the whole situation, does not approve at all.
And I think it’s time for a bit of ice. Again.