I had just been getting used to 3.5 weeks of a FWB walking cast.  No driving or anything, but going places, including the library and shops, clumping around with no crutches, even in the redwoods with the nephew.

Now it’s back to crutches, although no cast.  No one had warned me, but I did remember to bring the crutches, and of course, a pair of sportshoes with heel inserts.  The shoe is a Reebok Ultralite trainer, black and blue, bold and bright, and personally, shoes I would never wear in my “real life”.  Sportshoes are something I’ve kept in the back of the car “just in case” for years, but never use.

These Reeboks  were very very on sale ($10) and comfortable, with room enough for the inserts.  Appearance, in the California slob lifestyle?  Natch!

The orthopedic clinic has two time blocks:  mornings, more urgent cases; afternoons, less so.  This was my first afternoon visit, much quieter and less crowded.  One feels one has “graduated” by not coming to a morning appointment!  Since we’re jammed together waiting, I always learn about other injuries, such as arm, hand and finger problems, which gives a person pause:  which is worse, our ATR or other leg injuries, or hand and arm problems that also essentially disable you, your driving, etc?

The young surgeon teases me about being his favorite IRish dancer.  I did tell him it was due to dancing, but it wasn’t Irish stepdancing.  Never mind, my hair isn’t really red, either, but it makes him think “Irish”.

He wanted me to walk with PWB on crutches for two weeks in the shoes, and never remove the shoe unless bathing or sleeping.  No driving, because it could be that emergency breaking comes up, and he personally would never do it himself.  Come back in two weeks, then possibly FWB, or who knows?  I found myself once again awkward on crutches, thinking the progress one step forward, two steps back.

The senior surgeon came to check the wound, which was clean and neat as the cast came off.  Two seri-strips, but no scabs,  were still hanging, and lots of very dead skin flaked all over the lower leg.  The calf and foot were thinner and felt weak.  Here’s the kicker:  he thought driving would be okay, but not my professional driving because it’s too long to hold the foot down; it would hurt. 

He was not so stern as the younger one, more nonchalant about danger.  He also mentioned that PT won’t start yet, and a lot of it I will do for myself simply by walking on it, doing what the PT would do. He measured the angle of the foot:  90-degree dorsiflexion; 30-degree plantarflexion.  Is that good?  He’s a man of few words and too many patients, that’s how it is.

It is now two days of hobbling again, and I find that I can manage on one crutch in the house, with railing plus crutch on stairs, and that there is no pain at all.  All the dead skin came off in a mess on the carpet, and I shaved the hair.  The greyish skin tint is coming back to its proper Irish pinkish-white.  A few times, especially getting the pants off for the toilet, I have been FWB on the shoe for a second.  The scar is pinkish but very smooth.

So it’s two more weeks of “taking it easy”.  If I carry on with this lifestyle of unemployment too much longer, I may never wish to return to work at all!  Poor York is getting a real workout with me around.  He’s doing the cooking with fish and risotto’s, or else pasta.  Tea and coffee - no alcohol for now.

 I am in fact missing all the European tourists that I could have this summer, but they’ll still be there in the fall.  We in tourism consider the August tourists the “elcheapo’s”, the lower-income tourists who have to take their vacations in August.   Higher- income tourists come later, when the crowds are gone; people with more flexibility, e.g. people with no kids or whose kids are grown, or professional conference people.

Germans in particular are very numerous, the language I specialize in, and my boss NEEDS me!

Better not to phone the office too often, or I get “worksick”.  On the other hand, remind them I’m here!