I go on Wednesday for a MRI of my foot. I was hoping for better news.
The progression of this foot injury has gone from
1) it’s just a sprain to 2) the radiologist says you might have a broken ankle to 3) you have a broken ankle, a couple broken toes, a broken bone in your foot, and some strained ligaments. Let’s follow up in a few weeks to 4) you won’t need surgery to 5) it appears as if you may have torn a ligament badly enough to need surgery, we need to schedule an MRI to know for sure.
The progression of not bad, to kind of bad, to worse and the idea of having surgery three weeks into this ordeal adding on even more recovery time makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry.
Is it a first world problem? Yes.
Do I feel blessed that if I need surgery, I can have the surgery, and heal? Yes.
Do I think it really sucks that it’s finally spring and I’m stuck sitting inside with my foot up and that recovery might take longer than I originally thought? Yes.
I’m not a good patient and I’m not good with patience. I’m cranky and whiny and tonight is my son’s spring program and I want to go and watch him sing the songs he practiced without dragging around this bum leg in this eight pound therapy boot.
So that’s all.
And my mom just called so I cried and whined and grumbled to her and she told me I can still have a good attitude and make the best of it. Which is true.
I’ll definitely get my 50 books read this year. And plenty of knitting done. And my friend brought me some word searches and a coloring book/crayons so I can do that too. And I don’t even know if I need surgery yet so why borrow trouble. Right? Right.
Thanks for listening to me whine, friends.
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