This is a therapeutic post. My Ravelry "curse word" is my Puerto Rican grandmother's "Ay Dios Mio." I dated a guy, whose mother asked me one day,"What's with this smee-o smee-o stuff?"
There has been a lot of that stuff happening here recently. This has been a year of life and death, health and injury. Many an occasion to utter our Grammy's favourite words. This past Monday, for example.
Following a fine hike on Vancouver's Baden Powell Trail, which I decided to leave because of footware not matched to that segment of trail, those being trail runners rather than hiking boots. I watched every step carefully and safely made it back to the newly gravelled access road, 15 minutes from the car. I'd like to describe a dramatic scene, as in I was being chased by a bear on the trail, but alas, I was walking on flat, albeit gravelly ground.
Ay Dios Mio, a simple act of putting one foot in front of the other on that road allowed my life's lightening to strike twice. I can now say I've fractured an ankle twice. Granted, the last time was 45 years ago, and I am thankful for two advances in modern medicine. The first being the aircast. Such luxury showering in a plaster free state, being able to remove sand from that portable jail for bone and muscle, and having the ability to adjust the tension to accomodate swelling. The second might be a difference in the fracture, but I have gratitude for not being dependent on crutches.
I was not happy for our local hospital's new reluctance to prescribe pain meds other than stomach eating anti-inflammatories, so I prescribed my own, the red liquidy kind. Not too much, but an extra glass to my daily intake for the first few days:
I'm determined to find the positive aspects in all this. Just imagine the knitting opportunity this presents.