Get Moving Already!

Well, I made it to LAX safely for the wedding.  In fact, that weekend trip turned out to probably be the easiest travel experience I've ever had!  Wheelchair service was fantastic. . . I just sat in my mobile chair while everyone wheeled me to where I needed to go and picked up my luggage for me.  The car rental agency even provided me concierge service by pulling the car up to the curb for me. . . it was fantastic!  I managed to get along fairly well with the crutches throughout the weekend; I just watched my foot become the size of a football during the entire process!

But, back here in The City, I visited my doctor this week to have him examine my foot just one more time to make sure that nothing was wrong (despite all my suspicions).  By Thursday, the swelling had nearly disappeared completely for the first time and I woke up thinking to myself, "is this what my new foot will actually look like?  Hmm, it's not so bad . . ."

So, in Dr. Weinfeld's office later that afternoon, he took one look at it and said, "everything is fine.  You need to stop thinking about the pain and start walking. . . take some drugs if you need help getting through it, but you should be walking."  Well, if I couldn't count on Dr. Weinfeld for giving it to me straight, then I don't know who I could count on, really.

So, my physical therapist got me up on my own two feet (well, my own foot and this new, unrecognizable foot; yes, I have two entirely different feet now, but that's another post all on its own) with the help of that sexy medical cane and the boot this week.  I made a few laps up and down the hall without (too much) pain.  The last few days have been a different story, however. . . while the foot has finally stopped blowing up like a blowfish everyday, the pain persists.  I just have to keep telling myself I can do this . . . I can do this . . . I can do this . . . give me the damn Advil, will ya?

One more thing--the doc wants me in tennis shoes by the time I see him again in four weeks . . . he does realize I have to go buy new shoes because I am no longer the same shoe size, right?  I have to buy new shoes . . . yeah, but they won't be pretty ones?! (sniff, sniff . . .)