Friday, July 24, 2009

This boot was made to walk all over you.

It was a mistake to think I could accomplish anything practical during recovery. I am forced to believe, finally, that the body really does need the time off just to rest. My plans for getting some writing done flew out the window. My brain is made of mush. The consistency of the mush changes throughout the day. Right now, it is firm enough to allow me to type. About three or four o'clock this afternoon, it will shut down and become gruel-like in texture. It will dribble into a senseless heap inside my skull. At this point, all I can do is close my eyes and wait for it to form into a gelatinous mass wiggly enough for me to knee walk all the way to the bathroom.

This frightens me, because I am supposedly less than a week from returning to work. All that means is that I will be able to drive again, and sort of walk. I do not know how I will find the energy to get dressed in the morning, let alone drive the 40 minutes to work, and then work 8 hours, then drive another 40 minutes back, then clean the house, take care of the animals, do homework with my son, feed my son, and maybe do some grocery shopping, etc.

Of course, I will still be in a cast, but it will be a different type of cast that will allow me to stomp around like a giant borg. I will have to continue to wear clothes that are no longer than just below the knee. Or maybe long skirts, but that will appear funky. Let me draw you a picture from the top down: nice hair and make up, delicate jewelry, graceful top, long, flowing skirt, BIG, CLUNKY BOOT on one leg, and brace and tennis shoe on the other leg. The boot will look similar to this:

I hope I can take it off to shower and sleep, but I doubt it. I miss showers.

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  1. It could be worse. When my dad was in a cast to his thigh, he had to wear muscle pants and he chose the brightest, boldest patterns imaginable. Imagine somethig tie-dyed in neon colors beneath a white shirt, tie, and blazer.

    Feel better soon!


  2. I know what you are going through because I have been there twice in my life. Each and every time I wished that the whole thing would just go away but of course, it does not...
    Get well soon dear..

  3. You will still look fabulous, I'm sure! Just smile and pretend it's all normal. :)


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