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Booted and Banned

November 14, 2013

First, he gave me the boot. Then, he banned me from the fitness center. I cannot participate in water aerobics class on Mondays and Wednesdays, and I am forbidden from teaching on Fridays. The gym is off limits, too.

In the five-and-a-half-plus-decades I have walked this planet, no one, especially a health care professional, has ever told me not to exercise. Until now…

It happened today…on about lunchtime.

My right leg has been giving me grief lately. That’s nothing new…that leg’s been through a lot, and most of it’s been my fault.

It started when I was young…about six years old… My brother and I were riding bikes down the driveway, side by side. He got a little too close and I panicked and fell to the left. He fell to the right. I was wearing rubber flip-flops on my feet… my right foot got tangled in the spokes of his rear tire and my little toe was cut to the bone. I spent the rest of the summer getting up at oh-dark-thirty so my dad could doctor my wound before he left for work. I had to wear my own sneaker on my left foot and my brother’s on my right. It was quite the fashion statement.

As an adult, we’ve dropped a door on the instep of that same foot at the local building supply store. Then there was the loaded boat incident where I broke three toes, and the time I bashed my foot into a door frame and broke my baby toe. I’ve had that knee replaced, then had revision surgery. Finally, I bashed my shin into the trailer hitch on the pick-up when we were picking our apples a few months ago… I bruised the bone that time.

That leg’s seen better days. Thankfully, I’ve been kinder to most of my other body parts.

The pain in my shin has been hardly noticeable for a month or two and I haven’t given it a second thought. Until four days ago. Then it got a lot worse when I was stacking firewood in the basement. I applied ice, took Tylenol, sat in my recliner with my legs elevated for most of the evening. It felt better on Monday morning so I went to water aerobics.

It didn’t hurt when I got out of the pool so I thought I was good to go. I went about my Monday routine and joined a few other ladies in the church basement for our weekly quilting session. I walked on concrete floors for two-and-a-half hours or so. That’s when my leg began to talk to me. Loudly. It may have used foul language…or maybe that was me. By evening, I could barely walk.

My husband became concerned. He thought my prosthetic knee might be getting infected so he offered to drive me to Urgent Care to get it checked out. When I refused, he suggested I dust off my cane.

I can be stubborn. I resisted. Jim was not surprised.

Rest, Tylenol and ice helped yesterday, so I figured they’d help me out once again. I used them for a day and a half with little relief. This morning, I hobbled out to the car and went to pool class…admittedly not my best decision. I believe in having a back-up plan, so I left Jim a note saying that I might need him to drive me to the clinic after class.

The doctor examined my leg, diagnosed me with shin splints, and read me the riot act for not coming in sooner. I was happy Jim decided to stay in the waiting room; I wouldn’t have wanted a witness!

Doctor Anderson told me I needed to wear the boot religiously for two weeks, take Tylenol for pain and ice at least twice a day. If it doesn’t improve, I am to see my primary doctor.

I have a feeling it’s going to be a long two weeks. The boot makes my leg feel better, but the altered gait causes my knee and my back to hurt.

I have promised my dear husband that I will try to refrain from crabbiness…a tall order, indeed, but I‘ll try my best to keep my word.

To that end, I’m focusing on starting a new fashion trend: mismatched footwear. Who’s with me?

  1. permalink

    Karen — I sure hope you’re writing fiction here! If not, I am sure sorry to hear about it; hopefully, a few weeks off will be all that’s necessary to heal!

    I know that Jim is on “vacation” on Sundays during deer season — did you happen to go to Brookston on Sunday? If so, how did it go? I’ve heard that there weren’t many folks at Meadowlands (hunting and all); how was Immanuel?

    Rest up!


  2. Diane permalink

    I love brutal personal honesty. But I agree Jim was better off in the waiting room. Now he can’t accuse you of the poor caking the kettle black.

  3. Thank you. Almost half way done and haven’t gotten crabby yet. There’ll be time for that later!

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