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Crutching

Song Lyric of the Day:

Don’t fail me, feets don’t fail me now

I’ve intermittently been using crutches since my toe lopping two weeks ago. Coraline coined a new verb a couple of days in when she said, “Mommy, I can hear you crutching down the hall.” Since then that’s how we’ve referred to my frequent and always completely graceless use of crutches. Because if ever there was something clumsy people were not meant to use, it’s those fancy medical walking sticks.
You know what’s worse than limping around after toe surgery? Using crutches. Turns out they’re an upper body workout: Two days in, my abs hurt, my neck hurt, my upper back hurt. I also ended up with a huge spot rubbed raw on my right ribcage. Which is weird since I put my weight on the left foot because my right foot is the one that got operated on. The palms of my hands also hurt because they were supporting so much of my weight. All of this is to say I said to hell with the crutches on Friday. They were more hassle and pain than it was worth, so now I’m just hobbling around on my feet. (Although I did use them some Sunday after overdoing the hobbling on Friday and Saturday.) I’ve been careful to stick to my doctor’s instructions and keep the weight on my heel, though, which has me walking around like Frankenstein’s daughter on a leisurely afternoon stroll.
I’ve also been about as graceful on crutches as Tucker (who faked needing them) in There’s Something About Mary.

Not a pretty sight, is it? Me using crutches is about on par with that. You know who else is happy to see me not use crutches? Caleb, the fearless wonder dog. He’d see me coming down the hall and haul ass as far away from me as possible. Poor guy wouldn’t even let me pet him if the crutches were so much as in reach. I didn’t know dogs could give the stink eye to inanimate objects until the last few days.

This morning I’m going to my most-anticipated follow-up appointment since my post-C-section one, and I hope my foot doc at least takes the bandages off. You wouldn’t think you’d need 75 or so layers of gauze for a toe surgery, but it turns out you do; all those layers make it harder to hobble since my foot is on a slant in my boot. I also hope to be cleared to drive again; poor Rich has been my on-call chauffeur since my surgery. Mostly, though, I want her to say my toe is healing perfectly since I’ve been an angel about following my post-op instructions: keeping it elevated as much as possible, sleeping with my boot on (so fun), keeping my foot elevated in bed while I sleep (so fun when I need to sleep on my side), and garbage-bagging my foot to keep the bandages and boot completely dry while I shower. Our old-man shower with the seat has earned its place in my heart these last couple of weeks. But this will all be worth it when I can effortlessly slip into and wear any of my pairs of shoes in a few months.

Toe Sock
How I class up and keep my toes warm on cold days: one of Rich’s tube socks.

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