These Boots Were Made for Walking

I had my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon yesterday.  Everything is healing nicely and on schedule.  That's the good news.

The bad news is two-part and not so much bad news as disappointing.

I have to wear hiking boots.  Seriously.  Hiking boots.  In July.  With a gladiator style ankle brace.  Now that's hot.

I still can't bear weight while bare-footed.  *dammit*  This means STILL no shower! For four more weeks!  Gah.  I can hobble with my brace and no hiking boot.  I'm supposed to be able to walk freely without the hiking boot by the next appointment.

Here are some fun facts about hiking boots:
They're expensive.
They're not cute.

To boot...hahahaha, get it?...I have to buy two sizes too large to accommodate the brace.  I have size 9's and I feel like I'm wearing clown feet.  (I'm sorry if you wear size 9+) So I have to wear a thick sock on the normal foot.  Did I mention it's summertime and I'm wearing hiking boots? With extra socks?  I did?  It's because I'm a little BITTER about it.

I'm back to using a cane when I walk.  I've been not using one for almost two weeks.  I hate the starting over aspect of healing.   My leg has been weakened due to the injury so it feels a little wobbly.  I'm stooped when I walk with a cane. Then add the fact that I've been walking with a five-pound weight on that leg for four weeks and now it feels weightless.  I feel like I'm goose-stepping when I walk.

I just realized that OMG, I'm Ed Grimley.

I need one of those 1950's etiquette classes that teaches good posture. I have to remember to stand straight, step lightly, and not limp (because it's a habit now).

I have to return to work on Monday.  I'm starting back at part-time to accommodate physical therapy and my lack of endurance.  It is going to be such a change after "hanging out" for the past ten weeks. I have to say that I am very surprised how quickly it has gone by. I still have 30-something Ghost Whisperer episodes to watch and a bunch of books to read.

Last night when Kevin got home from work, I was struggling to learn how to put this complicated brace on and being frustrated with the not-fitting boot.  I was sitting on the bed, having a little pity party.

He helped me with the brace, muttering just like I was.  I had him dig through the laundry basket I keep my shoes disorganized in.  I used to have a pair of hiking boots but I gave them away.  I had him check anyway, to make sure my memory wasn't wrong. 

As any man would do, he had comments on the amount and kinds of shoes I had.  He took out my dansko boots and asked "Aren't these the shoes that tried to kill you?"  (no, they're in the give-away pile)  "You don't wear these." and "Why do you even HAVE these?"

I was complaining about having boots that were too big. He suggested that I just wear the boot on the broken foot and a sneaker on the other foot.   I worried about having my hips misaligned due to the difference in shoes. 

And the fact that I would be wearing MISMATCHED shoes, like I don't have enough on my plate.  I don't look disabled enough, let's add special needs to my appearance.

So, that's what's going on around here. You know, the usual. I must say.