week two was so much harder then week one.
 |
| worried doggy and boot |
but it never occurred to me that it could only get worse. I was living on Tylenol a short week after the procedure--hey, this wasn't gonna be so bad! Came home from the Dr last Friday with good reports and a second splint/half cast. Unfortunately,
the nurse had been careless and my foot hung at an angle
all weekend. I had constant pain and had to get out the prescription meds.
I couldn't elevate without it pulling on my 17 stitches and if I
let the foot hang down for a bit of relief, it instantly swelled.
Thankfully, I was squeezed into an appointment Monday for a new splint.
As soon as the nurse bent my foot to the correct angle--which I was unable to do myself --and re-wrapped it, the weekend pain was gone.
But, to my dismay--instead of a splint, they smacked on a heavy boot--and I'm far from weight bearing--I could barely drag myself to the bathroom--and pain levels continued to demand more then Tylenol. Ugh. I felt as if an oscillating sander was constantly shoved against my bone. Well, that bone was cut so what did I expect? Emotionally I spiraled down, down, down.
Blaze reminded me that God could have a purpose...I loved how she prefaced it: "I probably wouldn't like it if you were telling me this..." She's right about God; I've always believed it.
As it turned out, the boot did keep me completely immobilized--far more healing then my Payne constitution to be redding up the house on crutches. (Confessions--I've already gotten tangled up in them and went flat out on the floor! I can't let that happen again.)
Evidently, slow and steady wins this race.
May you have patience for your journey and a song along the way,
Zinnia Girl!
p.s. One of my favorite pass-times has been singing through the Red Mennonite Hymnal. I find it so incredible how some of those songs are filled with richness that reaches the soul with Holy Spirit tenderness, regardless of the centuries between us.
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