It’s Ethan’s birthday… and I’m not unusually depressed and I’m not taking the day off of work like I have in the past. I actually feel okay. Except for a sore foot… which I promise to stay off of as much as I can. Tonight I will go to the Falconer in Redlands and have a gin and tonic. (Bleech…)
I took yesterday off because my foot wasn’t working. It seems I broke it a month ago and ignoring the pain can only work so long until the foot says ‘no’ and keeps you awake and then flat out stops functioning. I stayed off of it. Took medication. Kept it elevated. So today it appears to be working well enough to get me from here to there with minimal pain.
I think I do that. Muscle through the pain. Ignore it. Man up. Work through it. Not that I don’t complain. I complain about everything. Everything, that is, except the important stuff. And sometimes it is just easier. It is easier to make a joke or be sarcastic or be angry than to be hurt. It probably isn’t all that honest to cover up pain, and I can fool myself pretty well, but it does have a function.
I have awful feet. I have plantar fasciitis. I have bone spurs. Lots of them. My feet hurt a little bit all the time. So when I partially tore my achilles tendon, yeah it hurt… but it wasn’t the pain that bothered me as much as the fact that suddenly my right foot wasn’t working so well. And then a month later, I tripped over second base and I thought I twisted my ankle. What I did was I broke my first metatarsal… a thin, straight crack… a fine white line on an x-ray that after a month indicated healing. I don’t know why it suddenly stopped working after a month, but I couldn’t bend my big toe or put weight on it… so I went to the doctor and then spent a day doing nothing.
So for a month I have had two sore feet that didn’t work well, and I kept trying. I continued to walk. I walk the dog a mile each day. Continued to play softball. I continued to jog… and when it hurt too much, I whined a bit, took Tylenol and waited until the next day to go out and abuse my broken foot bone and partially torn tendon. And like I said… I guess it worked… until it didn’t.
I know this isn’t the right way to treat my feet.
I’m a bit upset though because I was losing weight and running and working out and all summer I have struggled to get the work in. This put a hold in it and I have gained a good eight pounds in two months of limping. I actually had my 5k time down to my goal and I have been waiting to take my treadmill time and get it in an officially timed race. So this is frustrating.
Grief is similar. I hurt a little all the time and when it flares up, I rest a little and then go out into the world and soldier on. I ignore it, work through it, do what I can until it doesn’t work and I have to stop and catch my breath and wait for the pain to subside. I complain about the little stuff. Make jokes. Get angry. Change the subject.
So it is off to work. I promise to treat my feet better.
Happy birthday Ethan. Tonight I will have one drink in your honor.