CNHI News Service
As my Faithful Readers may remember, last week I offered an account of my encounter with a wooden chair with the final score winding up chair one, human being zero.
The big bruised area just above my ankle gave me a bit of concern so a few days later, in a routine visit to my family doctor, I asked him to take a look at it.
He sent me for an X-ray and put in orders for an ultrasound of the ouchy area. The chances of a cracked bone or blood clot were slim, he acknowledged, but he prefers to
err on the side of too safe.
Assuming as I always do that I’m pretty close to indestructible, I went my on merry way. That is until Friday, when his nurse called me at work and said I needed to see an orthopedic specialist as soon as possible.
And to stay off my leg until I did.
As it turned out, yesterday morning was the earliest I could get in to a specialist. So I spent the weekend torn between fretting over doing some serious damage to myself and living life with my usual casual disregard.
Some things simply couldn’t be ignored, like the Mutt Strut this newspaper sponsors every year during Greenup Old Fashion Days. Sure, I probably could have conned someone into doing it for me, but I love the Mutt Strut. And since I wasn’t planning on doing any strutting myself, I carried on as planned.
Of course, once at Old Fashion Days, I had to take that stroll through the festivities just to see who was there and, yes, get my last crack at festival foods. I left with some marvy barbecued brisket and two fried apple pies, still hot from the frying.
Yeah, I was achy when I got home, but hey, the pain was worth the pleasure.
I spent the rest of Saturday enjoying junk TV while reclining in my recliner. Yes, I may have overdone it on shows like Bar Rescue, Restaurant Impossible and true crime dramas, but I was only following doctor’s orders.
The new doctor’s orders since I saw the specialist are that I can walk on the leg but not to overdo.
Oh, man, is that phrase open to interpretation — and I’m sure I can find ways to interpret in my best interest.
As in “Can someone take the dog out? The doctor said ...”
And “Could someone do a load of towels? The doctor said ...”
Or “Would anyone mind taking out the trash? You know the doctor said ...”
And yes, it does work. I was in a major mood for pizza the other night, and since I live two houses from a pizza place and a half-block from another, all it took to make that a reality was a phone call and a few bucks.
I provided the money via my debit card. My daughter made the call and walked down to pick up the pizza and bring it to my house.
I roused myself from the chair to grab a slice or two and managed to stifle a moan as I settled back in. Although the pizza-sharing people around me didn’t seem to notice, the dog did. She gave a whine of concern and pressed herself against my knee.
At least I think it was a whine of concern. Looking back on the moment, that might just have been her way of reminding me that pepperoni thin crust pizza is one of very favorite treats in the world.
Cathie Shaffer can be reached at (606) 473-9851