The Most Boring Post in the World
I haven't blogged in a hundred years, and I don't have anything in particular to write about now but I thought I better check in.
I haven't been writing. What have I been doing? Limping. A lot. And working. Working and limping. Yep. It's about as exciting as it sounds.
I annoy myself in how long it takes me to get places now. I'm out of the boot and into a surgical shoe. It's designed, like the boot, to keep my foot from flexing. Try to walk without flexing one foot. Go ahead. I'll wait.
Yeah. It sucks, doesn't it? The only way to develop any sort of rhythm is to throw the right foot forward and bring the left foot up to it, maybe slightly ahead if you're feeling feisty. This means that I am essentially walking with a half-stride. This morning, as I gimped my way from the parking lot into the high school, I watched a little old nun with white hair gimp across the other parking lot. She was headed to the parish center. I realized that she was going at twice my clip. This was humbling, to say the least. Then a colleague mentioned, as we traversed a hallway this afternoon, "Wow. You are moving pretty slow."
I can drive myself now, which is great, but then I get out of the car and practically crawl.
I kept looking forward to the six week mark. Six weeks and I'm out of the boot! Six weeks! It's only six weeks...anyone can do anything for six weeks.
I forgot to ask what happens after the six weeks. I assumed that once I was out of the boot I would be, oh I don't know, walking. Yes yes. I know what happens when I assume. Anyway. Now I have three weeks of "transition." Or, in my mind, five days of the surgical shoe and then I just start freakin' walking, and then when I go back to the podiatrist in three weeks I say, "Yeah, sure. My transition was sloooow. Why do you ask?" Only I can't do that because M is back from Bangalore/Mumbai/Shanghai/Taiwan/MultipleStopsInHongKong and he's watching me like a hawk.
And so I limp.
I haven't been writing. What have I been doing? Limping. A lot. And working. Working and limping. Yep. It's about as exciting as it sounds.
I annoy myself in how long it takes me to get places now. I'm out of the boot and into a surgical shoe. It's designed, like the boot, to keep my foot from flexing. Try to walk without flexing one foot. Go ahead. I'll wait.
Yeah. It sucks, doesn't it? The only way to develop any sort of rhythm is to throw the right foot forward and bring the left foot up to it, maybe slightly ahead if you're feeling feisty. This means that I am essentially walking with a half-stride. This morning, as I gimped my way from the parking lot into the high school, I watched a little old nun with white hair gimp across the other parking lot. She was headed to the parish center. I realized that she was going at twice my clip. This was humbling, to say the least. Then a colleague mentioned, as we traversed a hallway this afternoon, "Wow. You are moving pretty slow."
I can drive myself now, which is great, but then I get out of the car and practically crawl.
I kept looking forward to the six week mark. Six weeks and I'm out of the boot! Six weeks! It's only six weeks...anyone can do anything for six weeks.
I forgot to ask what happens after the six weeks. I assumed that once I was out of the boot I would be, oh I don't know, walking. Yes yes. I know what happens when I assume. Anyway. Now I have three weeks of "transition." Or, in my mind, five days of the surgical shoe and then I just start freakin' walking, and then when I go back to the podiatrist in three weeks I say, "Yeah, sure. My transition was sloooow. Why do you ask?" Only I can't do that because M is back from Bangalore/Mumbai/Shanghai/Taiwan/MultipleStopsInHongKong and he's watching me like a hawk.
And so I limp.
posted by Amy at 9:59 PM
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