Thursday, June 09, 2005
the grouchy gimp show
Today I was to be free. Today I was to cast off my crutches like an anointed pilgrim to Lourdes. Today was supposed to begin the final three week count down to my emergence from this orthopedic cocoon that I might unfurl my wings and fly free into the blue skies of the July social scene.
But, no.
True I have forsaken the bandage-happy splint in favor of a walking-cast, but due to my bones riding the little bus on the road to wholeness my bone fusions have not yet totally fused. So now in conjunction with the walking-cast I shall be wielding a single crutch for two more weeks to provide an additional semi-weight-bearing period of knitting time. Then, I am permitted to shuck the crutch without another inquisition by the priests of medicine. However, my appointment to finally, completely, totally be rid of all prescribed encumbrances has been pushed back to the first week in July. What does this mean? It means that I am going to be dragging an unfashionable open-toed ski boot all around Gaylaxicon. It means I will have to watch yet another con dance from the sidelines. It means that I have exactly one and one half days of full weight bearing to rebuild twelve weeks of atrophy before having to unveil my now hopelessly mismatched legs at pool and sea side. It means I am so pissed off that… Let’s just say it’s not pretty.
But, no.
True I have forsaken the bandage-happy splint in favor of a walking-cast, but due to my bones riding the little bus on the road to wholeness my bone fusions have not yet totally fused. So now in conjunction with the walking-cast I shall be wielding a single crutch for two more weeks to provide an additional semi-weight-bearing period of knitting time. Then, I am permitted to shuck the crutch without another inquisition by the priests of medicine. However, my appointment to finally, completely, totally be rid of all prescribed encumbrances has been pushed back to the first week in July. What does this mean? It means that I am going to be dragging an unfashionable open-toed ski boot all around Gaylaxicon. It means I will have to watch yet another con dance from the sidelines. It means that I have exactly one and one half days of full weight bearing to rebuild twelve weeks of atrophy before having to unveil my now hopelessly mismatched legs at pool and sea side. It means I am so pissed off that… Let’s just say it’s not pretty.
