Tag: foot 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

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The Anti-Anxiety Dream

Many people, including me, have experienced an anxiety dream, the kind of nocturnal event that seems to feed on the things bothering them and causes them to awaken in distress, thinking about ‘this horrible dream’. Well, last night’s dream felt like an antidote to such dreams.

It began weird, strange, and slow, with me being given clothes. The clothes were bizarre, especially the pants. White with wide legs and gold piping outlining their shape, they were made of some stiff leathery material. I was barely able to bend them. And they didn’t fit at all. Way too large.

Out on a rocky outcrop, I was supposedly doing other things but couldn’t because I put these pants on and said, “No way. There must be something else I can wear.” So I took them off and held them up, looking around for someone to talk to about my pants. Nobody seemed interested in what I was saying. I reached a point where I thought, you know what, I’m just going to toss these aside.

Someone came by and took the pants away. I was expecting them to provide me with a different pair. When none were forthcoming, I resigned myself to the jeans I wore. They fit fine and were in good shape, so I was okay with that.

Then, crack, I was suddenly lifted by a whirlwind. I’d barely began processing that when it delivered me to a piece of white machinery. It needed repaired, I saw, so, click, I had it apart. Then, click — with a blaze of yellow and red light, the machine roared to life, fixed.

I laughed with glee. Because I didn’t think I could fix it. But I did! And it wasn’t hard at all.

Fixing gave me confidence. I looked around; what else needed fixed? Bring it on.

Then I wondered about my injured foot. It has a ruptured tendon. Need to be careful, I reminded myself. Yes, because it gives out without warning, hurts like fire burning the bottom of my foot when it does, and I don’t want to make it worse before I see my doc.

A deep male said, “Don’t worry about your foot. Do what you want to do. Your foot is going to be fine. Don’t worry about it at all.”

That’s when I awoke, probably because Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) was singing for his breakfast. I rolled out of bed, energized by the dream still clinging to my thoughts. It left me feeling so optimistic. As I went around the bedroom doing things, an odor struck me. I almost froze, smelling, thinking, what is that? I know that smell. It’s familiar, but —

Another dream fragment returned to me. I’d been in a white convertible with a tan leather interior. I don’t know what brand it was, but it was a luxury car, and I was proud and excited about it. The car top was down. I’d just bought the car. Brand new, it had that new car smell.

And that’s what I’d smelled while walking around the bedroom.

2

Sunday’s Theme Music

Note: Returned home to discover a technical glitch in The Neurons resulted in a failure to launch.

Mood: understated

Good day. Please come in, come in. Welcome to May 26, 2024. It’s 65 F now, sunny with blue sky outlining a fleet of sulking white clouds. Thunderstorms are possible.

Thunderstorms struck yesterday

Today is part of the middle of the Memorial Day weekend. Take a mo’ to recall all those who lost their lives trying to support the United States’ ideals of freedom, equality, justice, and independence. I know those ideals have always taken some shots. Written by white men, it was mostly written to white men’s benefit. Females and other races were eventually ‘given’ the same rights and benefits as white men.

Well, that’s what it said in the words and documents. They’re based on ideals and logic. Emotions are harder to wrestle. People who don’t like those changes are hostile members of our nation and are regularly rolling over our ideals while bizarrely claiming to be promoting our ideals through their abhorrent behavior. It’s a headscratcher.

My sisters and BIL and I went to the Pitt Floyd show in Oakmont last night. It’s a beautiful old theater, and we had a good time. Most of my good time was because I was with family. The sisters and I laughed and acted silly, and BIL gave perfect support.

The music was okay, as were the accoustics. The show could have used a good sound engineer to balance the notes and volumes, but we can’t have everything. Hearing the collection of PF songs fired a spectrum of emotions. Their early music came out while I was a teenager. Their music was part of my life as albums came out and I went to their shows and cheered the new stuff. They aged, of course. Several members died. This is life. I thank them all for their talents, and thank last night’s musicians for their talents, too.

I had a bizarre incident after I left the show. I’ve been having an issue with my right foot. A matter of pain, motion, and support. Those facets all wax and wane, sometimes limiting my effort to properly walk but generally ceasing after a few minutes.

Well, last night, we left the show. Encountering the band’s female vocalist, we complimented her for the show and her talents. Then, walking across the street, I made a step and turn.

Snap, went my right foot. Crack followed. My foot released its support. My right leg felt like it was kicked out from under me.

I caught myself before I went over. Pain burned through my right foot. Righting myself, I hobbled to the car. By the time I was home, agony has established a home in that foot. Diclofenac Sodium Topical Gel was liberally applied. I slept with my foot on a pile of pillows. It was an uncomfortable night. As a 68 year old man who drank two beers earlier, I had to pee twice. Fortunately, I found an unused cane.

I stayed home this morning, eschewing writing, instead icing, exercising, and massaging my foot. I can’t see any swelling or discoloration. It’s not working right, especially when standing on it alone as I put on my underwear, and going down the steps. Especially the down part. I will live, however.

With Pink Floyd’s songs ringing in my brain and thoughts of the nation’s founders mixing in my head, The Neurons dropped a Pink Floyd tune into the morning mental music stream (Trademark censored). Mom and I had been talking about political news and she commented, “I wonder what the men who wrote the Constitution would say about what’s going on.”

Boom! The Neurons plugged “Wish You Were Here” in. What would John Adams et al say about our current situation? I think they would need to be updated about history, like the American Civil War, the Civil Rights Movement, the ERA, Roe v. Wade and Dobbs decisions, and the other wars which shaped our nation and world.

I don’t know what those guys would say. I’d hope that they’d condemn Trump’s lies and hateful propaganda. I hope they would chastise Trump’s supporters for their appalling ignorance and hypocrisy. I hope they would lecture the corporations for their greed, newspapers for doing a poor job of informing the citizenry, and come down on we citizens for not being being more involved in our nations affairs and our poor voting records.

Enjoy your day. Be strong. Vote Blue in 2024. Gotta go. A cookout calls.

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