Or it better be. The boot must go. As will the crutches. And, no, I am not going to run or even walk a marathon the first day out. Maybe not even the second day. Right now I can't even manage the crutches with the trigger finger on my left hand. I had a steroid injection at the base of the finger yesterday and it is, to say the very least, a little sore. I am wearing a full Hyphen 2.0 outfit today as it is also therapy day. So I am looking, to say the very least, sharp. But the boot must go, to be placed in the basement along with other memories. Yes, today is the day. Two shoes, no limping.
I think I am due for a better streak in the coming months. It has been since July 20th when the leg first headed south without me and I was walking on it for another two weeks before it was cloaked in said boot. Ah, the pain, the sixty-four Oh, Gods I uttered at lunch one day when the pain was at its worse as counted by Sophie Handelman. The day I nearly passed out at work and couldn't make it to therapy. A few days after the first orthopedist opined that I didn't need to wear a boot. Jackass.
And just now to add insult to injury I wiped out on the way back from getting water. My right leg went out from under me in a smooth motion. I went down on my right elbow and hip, without, I say with injured pride, spilling the water I was carrying. What a way to start out a day. Fux and double fux.
So that said, the day has to get better. Here's to bootless, tootless Tuesday.
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