July 8, 2013
The numbness is still prevailing around my left ankle bone,
circulates up along the crease on top of my foot and down into the biggest toe.
Unable to wear normal shoes due to the ebb and flow of swelling. I wear a
open-toed sock that extends from my instep to the fatty yet flabby atrophied part
of my shin. It is tight and the color of an ace bandage so it goes with
everything. Out of the house I slip on
the clunky plastic black boot that is weighty, feels like a ski boot, hefty and
doubles as a weapon. I have outgrown the cane so I hobble along taking the
stairs one at a time and gleefully parking in the handicap spots until November
when the tag runs dry. I do have to remove the obnoxious boot in order to
drive, the Velcro sticks to any piece of fabric within miles so I have to
arrive early to all of my events.
As I locked-up the house on my way out, to throw the dog a ball at
the park a few blocks down, three cars sat idling in the street, obviously
awaiting some hooha event. I examined one license plate, make, model and year
of the car, to repeat the details to the police officer, when I dialed them. Promptly
forgot the sequence, as I trod up the stairs to my place, and the neighbor
hollered hello from the running vehicle in the driveway. Blew my cover. Would
have been too obvious to backtrack and jot the numbers down on my hand. Drat.
Physical therapy is torture, my ankle has been tender and very
painful since we started the program last week. I have succumbed to pain pills
a few times this last week, in order to sleep through the night. Wake up in a
slide of sweat since I refuse to turn on the ineffectual air conditioner. The
ceiling fan whirs me away to an ocean breeze, once I doze off in a medicated
stupor. I’ll let you all know when I am ready for an intervention. I demand
chocolate chip cookies and some sort of flavored lemonade for refreshments.
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