An exciting new chapter: two journeys of a different sort
 

As winter wanes (what a pathetic excuse for winter it has been so far!), I find myself looking forward to the passage of time - a most unusual circumstance, to be sure.  This situation has come to pass only because of a crucial decision I made a few weeks ago, and that was to embark upon the journey of an elective surgery.  And no, it wasn’t a facelift (if only!), but at the other extreme - a bi-lateral bunionectomy.



The back story is that I could never face having one foot fixed at a time, with the extreme down time multiplied by two, so I have lived with the limitations demanded by feet that cried with pain when I overshot how far I could trek.  I seem to have a penchant for wanting to see what’s over the next rise, around the next bend, beyond the next hill or deep in the next canyon.  All well & good that is, except for the return trip. . . curiosity satisfied, but a return whence I came requires backtracking, and that’s where the pain came in.



So . . . a visit to a neighbor revealed that she had recently had both feet fixed at the same time.  Eureka!  A way to get ‘er done with half the down time!  A call to my trusted surgeon, he who put my busted ankle back together, revealed that indeed, he could and would employ a type of procedure that allows walking (ahem, more about that later) immediately after surgery, thus both peds could be realigned at the same time.



Now about that walking . . . in my enthusiasm, I neglected to inquire about timelines, what “walking” meant to one person as opposed to what “walking” meant to me.  This little clip reveals the locomotion that I would be embarking upon for some weeks after the deed.  With little fondness, I call it the Monster Stomp.
 

Probably best not to inquire too extensively, I thought; who needs details really.  Either do it or don’t do it: I did it, and now I have even more hardware in my feet, pretty sure Dr. Simonson obtained the necessary items to put me back together at Lowe’s, but he wasn’t telling.

Meticulous surgeon that he is, subsequent to deconstructing and rebuilding my feet, Dr. S. swaddled them to a fare-thee-well utilizing nigh on to 20 pounds of various gauzes, wraps, and whatever other material he found on hand in the operating room, possibly some string and botanical material dropped by nesting pigeons passing through.

As with any surgery, some pain and recuperation is involved.  I find it to be the best excuse for mental lapses - anesthesia brain - not sure how long that explanation will take me, but I’m milking it for all I can.

To stink or not to stink . . .

As an adjunct to locomotion limitations, I was admonished by said medical professionals to keep the dressings dry, thereby eliminating any opportunity for showering.  For a couple of days, that is doable; but after that, it's all downhill in the body odor department.

To the rescue: my friend Pat had just endured an extended bathroom remodel; out of necessity, she had in the process discovered Skunky, the self-touted "60 second shower", a remedy for those who may be smelling funky.  Another friend, Mr. Google, led me directly to a website at which I could purchase said shower (basically, just add water), and the very next day, a truck arrived at my front door with my Skunkies - my social life was salvaged!

Social life intact; however, it has not prevented  “friends” and family from enjoying many laughs at my expense regarding my inchworm progress.  The señor says he calls me in to breakfast and I make it there by dinnertime, which is a blatant lie: I can easily arrive by lunchtime (if I rush).



Hopeful shoes . . .



By the time of my one-month checkup, at which I was told to bring shoes, I and my feet were yearning for comfort: shedding the dreaded flat-footed hard-soled medical torture devices, and cushioning my beat-up feet in soft slippers would surely elicit heavenly harps, hallelujahs, and all manner of angelic rejoicing. . .


. . . unfortunately, the medical professional in charge all but snorted at my hoped-for transition.  No no no, I was still not allowed to flex my foot.  Once again with her demonstration: Do not “toe off”, she rather meanly admonished.  Wear only shoes with non-flexible soles . . . so I continue with the medical sandals.  I mean, really, who owns shoes with non-flexible soles?!

 



I try always to search for the positive  . . . thus on the plus side, I do find the contraptions to be useful for annoying other folks at concerts, plays and various events.  Once the performance commences, I realize that my feet hurt; to relieve the pressure, I then rip open the four large velcro straps, a noisy affair indeed.  If I’m uncomfortable, then it only seems reasonable that those around me should have their enjoyment somewhat curtailed.



The bright side . . .



Sitting with feet elevated, as I was told to do, is not my chosen activity, or should I say non-activity; however, I am anxious to be past the recovery stage and on to having the whole affair in the rear-view mirror, thus I have done my best to remain in a sedentary state.



The mind, however, continues to whir along: a continual replay of every single thing that needs to be done by me and immediately.  To satisfy my need for accomplishment, I took advantage of the time to work on projects that could be done at least in part from a semi-reclined position.



I got it into my head that getting the señor installed in the Mayflower Society, thus getting his lineage from Mayflower passenger Elder William Brewster recorded in the annals of history, would be a positive way to utilize my time.  After many decades of genealogy research, it transpired that our way was not necessarily their way, so the project required a good bit of effort of the sedentary type - thinking that challenged anesthesia brain, probably a good thing.  That project has reached fruition, for what it's worth.



And an exciting new chapter . . .

Friends are wonderful to have, and I appreciate those who are along on the ride with me.  Occasionally,  they point me in a direction that had not been in my consciousness.  One of those treasured friends, Leslie, turned me on to a website that she thought would interest me, and indeed it did.

The afore-mentioned enforced sitting gave me the time to explore that website, and to embark on loading a ton of my photographs on to it.  In addition, I included some of my grandmother's wonderful paintings.



The beauty of this website: rita-wuehrmann.pixels.com/ is that buyers can purchase prints of the photos/paintings in a wide variety of formats: everything from prints on canvas, metal or acrylic, framed or stretched, small or large, to coffee mugs, note cards, puzzles, coasters, shower curtains, and tote bags, to name just a few, and for very reasonable prices.  Should an image work on a yoga mat, phone case or in any other format imaginable, your wish is the website's command.  



So . . . if you have a yen, give it a look-see: rita-wuehrmann.pixels.com/.

And thanks for coming along on my journeys, even when they don’t deliver me out into the wide wide world, but transpire right here at home!