Taking a Trip

Some would call Mr. Ginley a pessimist. "Look down," he always says. "Watch where you're going."

Me, I'm always looking up at the sky. Or the squirrel in the tree. Or other things.

Him: "You didn't see that guy jogging over there, did you?"

"Icing" my injury...

Me: "The one with the nice tan and glistening pecs? Nope."

But I digress. There are times when it pays to look down rather than up. Yesterday, for example. While waiting for the coffee to brew at the Starbucks at work, I stepped onto the patio to enjoy a little sunshine. A nice reprieve, I thought. I forgot about the 12-inch drop in the pavement. I didn't go down, but I did manage to twist my ankle enacting a series of maneuvers no foot likes to perform.

Ouch.

For the next several minutes, I sat breathing, hoping it would be one of those times when it hurts like hell for awhile, then you stand up and shake it off.

No such luck.

I hobbled back inside. The barrista, oblivious to my escapades, eyed me with concern. I wasn't limping when I walked in the first time. After explaining my mishap, she handed me a bag of ice. I fetched my coffee and hobbled off. It quickly became clear that this pain wasn't going to go away anytime soon. So, off to the infirmary I went.

My caregiver took a peek at my ankle, confirmed it was swelling up, and took my information about the accident. Did I want him to call an ambulance? No, I was humiliated enough, thanks anyhow. He told me I should get it checked out. I signed a paper and took another form to complete later. Then he handed me a couple of ice packs, and I continued the hobble back to my desk. There, I elevated my foot, and was forced to depend on the kindness of my co-workers to deliver my job jackets for me.

It's funny how, once you're injured, you appreciate all that your body does for you. I never thanked my feet properly. Oh, sure, I bought them new orthotics and most of the time I wear sensible shoes, but I still take them for granted. All that walking, and what do they get? A lot of work and not a lot of appreciation.

So, I'd like to propose a toast: To healthy feet. Here's to you, for being there every step of the way, in rain, sun and snow. Despite frostbite and bunions, corns and callouses, you take me where I need to go. And, especially now, I am grateful for your service.

Soak 'em if you got 'em!