This morning I had my first fit of temper since my foot swelled. I was tired of lurching around the house from furniture to furniture, making sure there was a cane handy, not being able to do anything or go anywhere. On the other hand, I was afraid of pushing my luck. So I had a pity party. After much trepidation, I took a French bath—worked better than I thought. Then an early lunch, a quick nap, and a good friend drove me to the doctor—something else I probably could have done but was afraid to.
Now I’m a new person. The doctor said it was probably venous insufficiency (which translates to old age in my mind)—a varicose vein probably burst. Apparently this would account for the pain that preceded the swelling and the swelling itself. It should, he said, resolve shortly. Best of all he advised removing the compression bandage because all it did was push the swelling into my toes. And he eliminated the ankle brace—“there’s nothing wrong with your ankle.” Such a relief. He did take lots of blood to rule out other things,
Left his office and salvaged a bit of my afternoon nap and then ran around the house like the energizer bunny, clearing off surfaces that were cluttered and bothering me, picking up this, that, and the other and putting them where they belonged, Even set out plates, napkins and flatware for friends who brought Tuesday night dinner to me.
Tonight, I admit I may have done too much—just a tad. But Jordan and Christian came in, and she was delighted to see me in shoes and walking well. It’s a whole new me, with a whole new attitude. I’m going to lay low for a couple of days before attempting much, but I’m a happy camper tonight.