Tag: ankle injury

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Footsensitive

The blogging day has a late liftoff. It’s a matter of scheduling.

Today is Thursday, September 26, 2024. Another autumn day, hotter than yesterday but it’s not supposed to scorch us. 70 F now, we expect 82 to show up on the temperature measuring devices before the fat boy sings. The sky is autumn blue, complimentary to the trees’ autumn wear.

I left the house at 7:30 this morning. Destination, Medford. Orthopedic surgeon office. My faithful companion rode shotgun. She and I figured that we’d do other things in Medford after clocking out of the doctor’s office.

I was there for my right ankle. After spraining out on it twice, May and June, MRIs showed a high-grade tear of my longus tendon. Fresh x-rays confirmed the status, along with his examination of my foot and stance. The surgeon’s recommendation: cut the longus tendon end out.

A surprise to me but his reasoning was sound. Longus doesn’t do much and is kind of redundant to the brevis. My brevis, and the rest of my tendons, along with my ligaments, muscles, and bones, look good. My instablity is being triggered as a response to pain in the longus. Basically, I feel pain from its remnants, and react, causing a wobble. So cut it out and the pain is gone. We discussed also tring to replace it with something else, since it’s been ripped away. He recommended the removal and after thinking and discussing, I lean toward having that done. Recovery will mean off the foot for a few weeks, a walking cast, and no driving. Six weeks on and it should be good, and therapy will be pursued for the leg, foot, ankle.

He was complimentary about my state of health, over 68, with only high blood pressure, a condition which has plagued me since my yute.

BTW, doctor and staff impressed me. All were professional, courteous, friendly. No one was condescending. Everything went on time and was methodical and straightforward.

Next steps, check with my PCP for any health showstoppers, and run it past insurance for their approvals. Of course.

Today’s theme music was floof inspired. After my doc appointment, we went to a breakfast trough, did a little shopping and zipped home. Once in the domicile, I did a cursory flyover to find Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and Papi the ginger blade. I figured they were in the backyard, by the back door. That inspired The Neurons to sing “They are back door kitties” to the tune of Foreigner’s “Juke Box” hero from 1982. Within a second of that inspiration, JBH was rocking the morning mental music stream (Trademark rocked).

Had an interesting encounter after parking at Trader Joe’s in Medford. A guy parked his vehicle behind ours and said, “Hey, nice bumper sticker.” That would be my “Vets for Kamala Harris” bumper sticker. He told us he’s out west in Grants Pass often, and it’s wall to wall Trump flags and signs. “Makes me want to gag,” he revealed.

BTW. the ACLU is suing the City of Medford Police Department for allegedly spying on progressive organizations/individuals. “The suit alleges that the southern Oregon police department monitored social media accounts and combed news stories to build files against individuals and groups when they weren’t suspected of any criminal activity.” h/t to OregonLive.com

Stay positive, lean forward and remain strong. Vote blue for the difference it will make. On to write and coffee and all those other elements of my daily existence. Oh, and here’s the music. Just remember to sing “Back door kitty” whenever they sing “Juke box hero.” Cheers

7

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: weatherflective

It’s Monday, June 17, 2024. Ashlandia is drying out from yesterday’s late afternoon rain and more precipitation decorating the night. Branches are tangoing with the wind and a blue sky as dazzling as a diamond suggests, we have a nice day lined up for you, folks. It’s 50 degrees F out with humidity floating in the eighties and a chance for the thermometer to breach the upper sixties. Spring rules again, although all is fully bloomed, waiting for our entrance. I’m a little sneezy and itchy-eyed with allergies.

The neighborhood is so quiet, you can hear a cat meow. A flying crow chastises us as he beats wings to somewhere else. Cars roll up with stoic indifference, delivering a gentle rumble from engine and tires.

No updates on Dad. They were to call when opportunity for us to chat came. So, sigh, I wait.

Meanwhile, back in Pennsylvania, Mom is stirring up issues by claiming her beau made up an invitation that included Mom to go to a party with his family. She went to the party but did not enjoy herself because, she said, they were surprised to see her. She doesn’t think she was invited; my sister suggested, “Mom, you told them you weren’t coming. Of course they’re surprised when you showed up.”

But no, the invitation didn’t include her; it was manufactured. We don’t understand why he’d do that; discussing it logically with her is a task for someone with stronger shoulders. She doesn’t hear us, and doesn’t want to hear us. I remember taking conversations with her about this same matter fifteen years ago. It’s coloring our memories of her, making her bitter, angry, and hostile in our memories. That’s the problem with aging and living longer: we begin with a vision of who we want to be, and push efforts that way, and then our mind and body twist, erasing our vision.

Dinner with friends last night was entertaining. A jigsaw puzzle was begun. Featuring odd-shaped pieces, it’s not as fun as those with uniform shapes, even though it was an interesting scene from a museum with patrons.

This morning, we deliver for Food & Friends, and then I’m going to slip on my customary writing routine, and frequent the coffee shop. Ankle is wrapped. Swelling remains a matter to address but I don’t know how much is ankle injury and how much is my recurring edema. Ice, elevate, rest, but it’s tedious and mood-altering.

Songs came together today from thoughts of summer. Specifically, the heat wave riding others in the U.S. Out of that train, The Neurons pulled in “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in My Hand” from 1996 by Primitive Radio Gods. Starting with that B.B. King sample, it plays and repeats in the morning mental music stream (Trademark chillin’). See, it has a line in there, “Does summer come for everyone?” I think the ground for this song and its lazy, reflective tone by a song on another blog the other day, “Tom’s Diner” by Suzanna Vega. They have similiar feels to me.

Coffee is making the trip between the lips. Be positive, stay strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Let’s go get ’em, tiger. Here’s the music. Cheers

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