I went to the doctor today. I had hoped to have my cast taken off. It has been five weeks. The good doctor says that there are signs of healing, but not very much. They will re-evaluate in two weeks. He insists that things are going good. He did not take the cast off.
The hardest things about a cast have nothing to do with my broken foot.
For one, it is hard to have a hot cast and a heat flash and a husband who is always chilly in the same bedroom.
Another thing that isn’t nice is that the foot that isn’t broken has had to work so hard compensating that it has something wrong with it, now, too. Today the doctor gave me a shot in the “good” foot because it has gone so bad. My lower back has been extremely out of alignment, too, so the pain medicine that I take has been for stuff other than the broken foot. I am very thankful for my chiropractor these days.
I must confess that I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t take the cast off today. Two weeks ago, they had to change it because I had gotten it wet. I entertained the thought then that maybe they would put on the “removable” cast that they had promised me “when things were a little farther along.” After all, it had already been three weeks.
It turns out, I didn’t even ask They had no more than gotten that cast cut off than I was silently begging, “Please, please, please, just get it back on. Quickly!” I didn’t say anything, but the beads of sweat on my brow or the panic in my eyes must have betrayed me, because today the doctor said he knew that was how I was feeling. The cast went back on without discussion.
Today, I briefly considered doing a quick Dover shopping excursion, but decided that I maybe should just bring myself on home. I drove the thirty miles and made good use of my cell phone, planning food for yet another funeral. About the time I was coming into good old Milford, I had hung up my phone and was thinking about life and getting older and things that matter.
I was in the last residential district before the end of Canterbury Road when I saw an old, bald headed man on his mower by the left side of the road. I thought momentarily that he was a bit near the road, when I saw him raise his right arm and cheerily wave. His smile was broad, and he looked so happy. I looked over to the other side of the road, (to see what he was waving at) and there was another old man, on his mower as well. He was waving back as best he could around the big yellow dog that was riding on his lap. The dog sure looked like he was enjoying himself, though I’m not sure how the old man was able to see around him. It was a sight! It made me laugh and it made me all warm inside.
I thought about friendship then, and about how thankful I am for all the friends who have been cheering me on. I’ve had so many people who have gone out of their way to bless me. And I am so better off because of their prayers and friendship and helping hands. So much better off because of cheery waves that have come my way and the smiles that people give me inspite of the big yellow dog that insists on riding on my lap. Well, I guess it is a clumsy black cast that is on my leg, but it sure does get in my way. Sometimes I think I can hardly see around it. But my friends seem to know that I’m somewhere inside that cast, and they have helped me to keep perspective.
So thank-you, all of you! I am grateful for my precious friends! And maybe that removable cast can happen in another two weeks.