When I look back on the year 2013, I will have to say it was anything but boring. I've never much cared for roller coasters, but this year is quickly becoming one. You might recall that I recently returned from my
yurt adventure, all rejuvenated and rosy cheeked. Warm, fuzzy feelings of everything being right in the world set in. It was good times. Flashback to a week ago when, out on an innocent sightseeing Sunday, I took a tumble and fell, hard. Too smitten with the South Saskatchewan River to watch where I was going, my foot caught in a rut and I, in all my uncoordinated glory, ended up breaking a bone in my right foot. At first I thought it was a simple, yet painful sprain, but as the shock wore off the excruciating pain set in and yup, an X-Ray revealed a broken foot. Oh my. This was so
not how things were supposed to go for me! I had plans and activities and work to look forward to. Now, I'm laid up with crutches and an oh-so-sexy walking boot that still scares the bejeezus out of the cats. Seeing as I'm the pastry chef in a busy kitchen, work is put on hold indefinitely. I've had to rely on friends to help do simple tasks around the house. Let me tell you, it's pretty humbling to see someone else sweep your floor, do your laundry and take out your trash. I'll never again take for granted these simple activities that I wish I could do for myself. The broken foot has definitely cramped my independence, but given that today is Thanksgiving in Canada, I still have so much to be grateful for. Like, of all the bones to break in the foot, I broke the right one, requiring only 6 weeks to heal instead of 6 months (that would surely put me over the edge). I'm grateful to the friends and family to have stopped by with food, comforting words and offers of assistance. The sign of a true friend is one who will clean the litter box without being asked. True that. I've no doubt I'll heal well; the pain and swelling are already decreasing.
Just be patient, the doctor said. I nodded my head. Just another one of life's adventures to look back upon when I'm 90 years old and shooting the shit in the seniors' home.