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| The offending appendage |
I feel like an utter fraud.
This is the kind of injury dedicated runners get, or people
who climb tons of stairs. It’s even known to be caused by shoes laced too
tightly.
NONE of this applies to me. It is as if I got the bends from
just washing my face, or carpal tunnel from waving bye bye once in a while.
On Saturday morning, walking to meet Rose at the Oreland
train station, I noticed my right foot was aching. Didn’t think much of it—in fact,
I proceeded to walk two more miles, to the Acme and back. That evening, a group
of us went down to Delaware to see Steve in Guys
and Dolls. By then, I was hobbling, and after the show I couldn’t traverse
the path from theatre to car without assistance.
No sleep that night due to intense pain, even after taking
600 mg. of ibuprophen. I spent early Sunday morning divesting myself of my obligations
for the day ahead—teaching Confirmation, delivering the children’s message. I
was really looking forward to attending the opera that afternoon with my friend
Mary Ellen, but the prospect of navigating Center City on foot was way too much
for me. So I passed the day resting, elevating, and icing the offending
appendage. By then it was pretty clear I had extensor tendonitis (an
inflammation of the tendons of the foot). This is one of those delightful
ailments for which time is the only real cure—and I don’t have time for this!!!
Ironically, we’d just covered St. Paul’s letter to the
Galatians in Bible study (the one listing the various Fruits of the Spirit). I’d
been feeling a bit smug as I checked off my Fruits. Yes, I am (often) kind!
Yes, I exhibit self-control! Sometimes! Loving? Faithful? But of course! Ish!! But then I got to…Patient. And I had to admit.
I am not only impatient, I am IMPATIENT, especially when it comes to issues of
health and wellness. In a world where so many of my brothers and sisters are living
with genuine, long term disabilities, I am instantly infuriated by a slight,
temporary limp.
My life circumstances can change on a dime—as can yours. This
week, I walked a literal mile in the shoes of a disabled person. I hope to
emerge from this miserable experience with more patience, and compassion. I am
not getting any younger, and I anticipate more and more system failures going
forward. And I’ll have a choice when confronted with the inevitable aches and
pains ahead. Will I be grouchy? Or gracious?
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| A day as miserable as I am! |
As it write this, it is a sleety Tuesday afternoon—not a day
to be outside, even with fully functioning limbs. I can now put some weight on
the foot without agony (though it isn’t loads of fun). Clearly I am on the road
to recovery, and anticipate being back on the dance floor by next weekend.
Except I don’t dance.
But you get the idea.
