Friends, I had
an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon today, and I cannot tell you how
anxious I was about it. I had so many warnings about dire consequences if I put
weight on my broken ankle at all. There are of course instances where you can’t
help but put a little weight on it, like the night I nearly fell between my
walker and the bed and decided it was best to use the foot instead of ending up
on the floor.
So please rejoice with me that the doctor said “it’s not any worse.” No, he didn’t mention healing, etc., but he’s apparently not an effusive person. I thought this was the best I could hope for, couple with his prescription to continue what I’ve been doing for three weeks and then go back to see him.
So tonight, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and a celebratory dinner—meatloaf, green beans, and mashed potatoes with cream gravy. I’ve been eating light—tuna salad, etc.—but tonight I found myself hungry. Probably a good sign.
That’s all, folks. It’s my good news of the day.
So please rejoice with me that the doctor said “it’s not any worse.” No, he didn’t mention healing, etc., but he’s apparently not an effusive person. I thought this was the best I could hope for, couple with his prescription to continue what I’ve been doing for three weeks and then go back to see him.
So tonight, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and a celebratory dinner—meatloaf, green beans, and mashed potatoes with cream gravy. I’ve been eating light—tuna salad, etc.—but tonight I found myself hungry. Probably a good sign.
That’s all, folks. It’s my good news of the day.
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