Mobility is something I take for granted. Planes, trains, and automobiles are everywhere. And walking, that old standby, is also something I take so much for granted. Just get up and GO. Estimating distance not by speed, but by length of time it takes to get there, is commonplace.

Except when it is not.

It takes me longer to get anywhere with my foot in this blasted air cast. I do not stride purposefully down the halls, I lurch and hobble in an uneven gait, never truly picking up speed. It is not graceful. It is not feminine. It is tiring and blasted inconvenient.

My normal routine involves a great deal of running around by car…to and from work, errands to the post office, the food store, choir, chorus, dry cleaners, bank… Things I would run off and do at the drop of a hat I now need to think about, plan around, and get a ride for.

And that is difficult for me. Asking for help. Inconveniencing someone else. Being dependent is horrid. I lack the patience, the grace, the humble attitude. I much prefer to be on the giving end than the receiving end of favors. Ye gads, when I finally really AM old, I’ll be in for a serious culture shock of adjustment!

Today’s x-ray showed healing but not enough to remove the air cast to drive myself to and from work. The break is too serious and the healing too new and fragile, the doctor said. The healing bone fracture looks lumpy. The doctor insisted that the bones themselves are in alignment so the end result will be perfectly fine. I am supposed to be icing it still (?). I go back in nine days for a repeat x-ray.

I am still bumping over the wastepaper basket I rest my leg on at work. I haven’t tripped on or stepped on the puppies…yet. There were a few close calls, though.

Non sequitor #1:
There is a total lunar eclipse tonight. I was watching it through the moonroof as we drove home from dinner with the kids and grandkids.

Non sequitor #2:
Men reach down to adjust their crotch.
I reach in to adjust my cross-eyed boobs.