Casting Calls in Pink and Black

I winced like a whiny bugger as if a wasp’s stinger was impaled under my skin when Mike pulled out the first few sutures. He and Dr. Ptaszek, my ortho through the Illinois Bone and Joint Institute, had declared that my leg looked good; that the healing from the surgical procedure had closed the wound nicely. It seems though that a second look at the “Wild Weasel” itself via doppler was unnecessary. Amy Jo is rather confident about her work. My confidence is in the Lord. She is a rather enjoyable doctor.

My rehab will consist of two days per week for two months PWB , “Partial Weight Bearing” at 100%. I’m still advised to “go easy” in terms of my range of motion. So before I return in two weeks for a check-up on my well-casted leg, I need to decide on which rehabilitation services to employ.

If I had to announce a casting call for the “Wild Weasel,” I guess I would choose someone who was confident enough to wear a pink and black cast. Yes I said it: “A pink and black cast.” Black because it looks rather sleek on my leg like a black leather boot; and pink because it’s the “new black.” Plus, my only niece had surgery on both of her feet in order to promote proper development in her tender soles prior to her third birthday. She soldiered through with two pink casts on both feet (of course). So the pink is for her. She turns four next week.

So a medley of Harley Davidson and Victoria’s Secret seems “manly” enough for me. Think Pink Panther in black leather eating up highway on a Black Iron 883. Yeah. Then hum the theme music.