PawPaw injured himself on Tuesday, last. Working on the sewer, I got a bad chemical burn on the top of my left foot. It didn't look so bad on Wednesday, so I went to work. By the end of the day I was in pain, so Milady got me to the doctor on Thursday. Yes, I'm doing what the doctor tells me to do, and Milady is my personal RN, so she's watching after me as well.
Crutches are a pain in the butt. I haven't been on crutches since college, and my upper body strength is considerably less than it was during my Army days. Moving from the porch to my chair is like running a marathon, and as I type this, I'm winded. Going to the bathroom is a mental challenge, just trying to figger out how to position myself so that I don't lose what little dignity I have left.
All this to say that if I don't blog much over the next week or so, you'll know why.
3 comments:
Do you hunt gators barefoot also? There's some serious Acadian mystique involved here, it would seem...
Chem burn on the foot? I'm seeing a likely head-slap moment there. Geez, be careful on those crutches -- they can be the start of yet another incident.
Hopefully your following doctor's orders is more the result of the resident enforcer, uh, RN, than the level of pain. Hang in there.
Hope you feel better soon!
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