What a difference a day makes!

The week started out badly for me. I woke up Monday morning and couldn't put any weight on my left foot. Did I ninja-kick the wall during the night? Trip on my way to a midnight run to the fridge and not remember it? Fight off aliens who tried to beam me up?

It was puzzling. I was not happy.

It's amazing how hard it is to do things when your left leg is useless and everything becomes an effort. I bottomed down the stairs to the kitchen, sat down to breakfast and realized I forgot to bring my coffee over to the table. Where were my raisins?--still in that cabinet that was so far away. I was exhausted by the time I finished eating and then thought of all the things I had left upstairs--my favorite foot cream, my book, my chapstick, my comfy socks. I would just have to do without.

I sat down to my computer and the rest of the day went pretty well, since that's how I usually spend it anyway. Meals and bathroom trips were a trial, but Gary was helpful when he got home.

The next day was more of the same-crawled to the bathroom at night, since I didn't want to deal with the cane and felt sorry for myself that I would probably just be this way the rest of my life. Ponderings at 2 AM tend to be melodramatic.

By Wednesday morning, I was actually feeling better, could put some weight down on the foot and limp around without a cane. Problem was I had the orthopedist scheduled at 4pm. Should I cancel now? Best to get the xray, I thought, but I was actually embarrassed to be feeling so much better. I decided to still use the cane and, like one of those bad comedy sketches, I limped into the office, sometimes favoring the wrong foot. To be honest, I don't think any of the staff really cared. I was one of many "add ins" at the end of the day, so they had one eye on the clock.

Good news is the xray was fine. I was diagnosed as having an "overuse injury", due to going to a museum on Sunday, walking and standing more than I usually do. That's overuse? Pathetic. I'd feel better if I could at least attribute it to a 10 mile run or a strenuous hike. I guess I need to push past my current exercise regimen of walking to the mailbox every day.

I was so excited today on my new found mobility that I've been up and down stairs at least a dozen times. "Look at me," I want to shout. I can do anything! (except maybe get out of my pjs before noon)