Not my boot, but similar, for a broken foot! Not on crutches thank goodness. |
Last week I broke
my right foot. It's been hard getting around, but since there is nothing
I can do about it, I'm not going to complain
.
Actually, there is a humorous side to all this if I look at it the right way.
Actually, there is a humorous side to all this if I look at it the right way.
Picture me crawling around on my hands and knees like
an eighty-five-year old baby because I can't stand up due to the pain. My cat
"Blossom" is following me around, purring like she's my soul mate. We
seem to be on level ground now. If I suddenly start lapping at her food bowl,
I'll be ready for the men in the little white coats.
I am still concerned walking up and down on the
thirteen steps.
Another thing to picture – me going up and down each stair on my backside. One step at a time, pushing myself from stair to stair with my arms. Maybe I'll get some muscles back. My arms will always be flabby, but a little more strength would be nice.
Another thing to picture – me going up and down each stair on my backside. One step at a time, pushing myself from stair to stair with my arms. Maybe I'll get some muscles back. My arms will always be flabby, but a little more strength would be nice.
There was a light in my day when the taxi driver
picked me up to go to the clinic.
He was friendly and helpful. When we got to the clinic, he hung
around
until the nurse brought out a wheelchair. By my second trip with him we had
become buddies.
Seems he wants to become a writer, but wasn't sure how
to go about
getting started. Wow! That was right up my alley. I forgot my pain and started
advising him. Told him if he wrote only twenty-five words each and every day,
he would soon find his mind thinking up ideas. I gave him a book called
"If I Can Write, You Can Write." It's the book I used to get started
- best book on the market.
He left happy and I felt blessed. Everything happens
for a reason. Who
knows, maybe one day he'll be this generation's Ernest Hemmingway.