Skip to main content

It's not my first summer wearing a ski boot

A summer gathering on Drummond Island.
Post-cocktail hour.


After the most recent episode of grace in action, I scoured my memory for the details of my previous broken foot. For the life of me, I couldn't remember if I'd broken the right or the left or the year it happened. Having also sprained an ankle, two things are fairly obvious right now (more obvious than the black cast adorning my right foot). One, I need to write more so that I have written proof on which to rely since my memory is clearly not what it should be. (More on that later!) And second, I am a first-class, gold-medal earning (if there were such a thing), klutz. Klutzy Kathleen. Even before MS was part of my daily life, I couldn't walk and chew gum without a potential disaster.

After unearthing the picture above, I discovered it was my left foot. An adorable nearly two-year-old Delaney is partially camouflaging the evidence of the black cast/boot. And it was July or August because we would spend a weekend there every summer with the Andary's, Waldenmeyer's and Allen's. This will be my second summer in a hot, black ski boot. Oh boy!

It's ironic, perhaps, that I'd just gotten the results from my first-ever bone density test in April. It was the first medical test I passed on the first try. I mean, I was ecstatic! After the dreaded physical in February and the resulting referrals for tests and more tests, it was great news to learn I had strong bones.

My take away for today, if my bones had been bad I could have broken a leg or had a more severe break. And, having had MS I'm fully prepared with a garage full of walking aids to assist my recovery.




Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Tough time to be a Pollyanna

Remember when 9/11 was just a date or a number you called in an emergency? Our lives changed dramatically post 9/11. For weeks after that September day, we seemed to walk around in a fog, like the haze that loomed over the now-fallen twin towers. I remember trying to minimize my obsession with the news, trying to keep the three little Piggins away from the enormity of the disaster. Remember when corona was simply a beer best served with a lime wedge? It now and forever will be instead associated with this virus that has upended our world in ways we could never have imagined. This tiny little, microscopic virus has brought the mighty to their knees. It has us quarantined and distancing socially (though I believe we've been doing this emotionally for years) and working from home. As anxiety peaks, our economy tanks. As toilet paper and hand sanitizer flies off the shelves, we are looking for new ways to stock our pantries. A good friend observed, "I never thought I'd...

Treatment begins

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Today is the day I begin, at last, treatment. Today is the day I begin to kick cancer's ass. Today is the day I start infusing ugly, nasty, side-affect laden, toxic chemicals for the greater good. Today is a day that I wish I could rewrite the script for completely deleting the part requiring me to need breast cancer chemo. And yet, here it is and at 1:15 EST I will be at the Cancer & Hematology Center in Holland. It's where I will be a lot for the next five months. It's where I will, I'm sure (and surety is something I have less of these days as I know not how I will respond to chemo), create new friendships and forge bonds with people that I am currently unfamiliar. Because that's who I am; a lover of people and a woman that wants to know and love on all the people she comes to meet.  I don't know why I have breast cancer but someday I will ask God (along with a whole bunch of other questions!). I do b...

Christmas cards

I sat down to reluctantly address Christmas cards. While our list has slowly dwindled through the years it's still a sizeable number, especially when it's viewed as a task approached reluctantly . Know what I mean? Some Christmas 'tasks' are a lot less taskier - like decorating or shopping or eating or opening presents. I mean, there's a whole different level of enthusiasm associated with 'tasks' that aren't viewed as tasks - I can't ever remember a time when I sat down to reluctantly open a present or eat a Christmas cookie! Anyway, I approached the Christmas card addressing with a less-than-positive, more bah-humbugish attitude. I poured a cup of coffee, grabbed the markers (I had to have a green, a red and a black one), the list and of course the envelopes (which John had already stuffed with the card). I turned on some Christmas music, but not too loud or it would distract me (and it really doesn't take much to distract me. Squirrel!),...