Before you ask, I was putting something on the top shelf in my closet. Or attempting to, anyway. I’ve always said I’m a terrible judge of size, distance, weight, etc. The bin turned out to be about an inch too tall to fit on the shelf. Or maybe two inches. Like I said, I’m terrible at estimating these things. I’d be a horrible carnie.
Last Monday I fell off a ladder and now have a nasty contusion on my heel. The right/real one! I’ve yet to be able to put any weight on it without pain. The first question everyone, without fail, asks me is, “What were you doing on a ladder??” Reasonable people can argue about where to place the emphasis, but I always hear it on the “you,” rather than on “ladder.” As though it’s perfectly normal for everyone else to be on ladders, but unthinkable for me. I’m also aware that probably 50% of the people posing the question intended it differently. Robert Mueller followed up with a question about collusion, earning him a signature combo special, single eyebrow raised whilst looking skeptically over the top of my glasses. Regardless – please see above for the answer to the question.
I took a Lyft out to the urgent care center opened by my primary care doc’s office last year, knowing they had X-ray capabilities and figuring they could reach my PCP more easily if necessary. The doc who saw me was pretty sure I hadn’t broken anything because my foot and ankle’s range of motion was normal and it didn’t hurt when I moved it around. Still, we shot a quick X-ray to make doubly sure nothing was broken. Nothing was, but I was rewarded with a bad bruise on my foot – confusingly, the bruise is everywhere except my heel!
So I teleworked all last week and went more than a little stir crazy. I attempted to go into the office this week, but when my boss caught sight of the bruise on the arch of my foot, she went into Mom Mode and asked if I shouldn’t be at home and how I got to the office that morning. (I drove.) Didn’t that hurt? (No.) Is that really safe? (Yes, of course… I wouldn’t have driven in if I thought it was unsafe for me or others..) Why don’t you work at home the rest of the week. (Spoken not as a question, despite its phrasing.) There isn’t anything you need to be physically here for after today, right? (Sure.)
My crutch game is picking up speed, though. I can now go up and down stairs without an overwhelming sense of imminent death and can carry dishes of food without supplementing Polly’s dinner. Speaking of PB, she spent last week in the boro, returning this week when Mom and Dad’s travel plans picked back up. There is now a rotating cast of lovely people stopping by to walk her throughout the day.
I leave you today with a public service announcement accompanied by a series of songs: