You Look Cute with Two Shoes

Sunday, after close to three months of trying to heal a sprained ankle, I took off the giant, black boot the doctor prescribed. 

By doctor’s orders, I wore it all day, every day, except in the shower. As one can imagine, in the heat of a Memphis summer, there were complications. Since I still lived on the third floor apartment for the majority of the time, even getting to work could be perilous. As a good friend stated, it really helps you appreciate your health. Being unable to run, use an exercise machine, or even swim, my body was not happy with me. I am definitely a bit fleshier than when I first turned my ankle.

However, my boot taught me several important lessons. The first of which is that other people notice a handicap much more than the handicapped person. Aside from some pain and not being able to move as quickly as I would have liked, the boot did not alter my everyday life. After having it on for a month, I began to get constant “when are you going to get that off” questions, which were immediately followed by “how long have you had that on” and (since I’m in the South) “bless your heart” type comments. For me, the boot was not that great of a hardship. Sure, I slept better without it on and when I was moving, carrying boxes down to my car, there were several times when I began to slip and saw the exciting bits of my life burst before my eyes. But aside from that, life went on.

More importantly than the attention, I learned that when I don’t slow down, life has a way of forcing me to slow down. Before spraining my ankle, I was working fifty hour weeks. After spraining my ankle, before the boot was put on, I could not walk great distances, and was forced to quit my second job. Had I not sprained my ankle, I would have continued to work two full-time jobs indefinitely, taxing my body and mind, and not leaving myself time for anything else.

Boogie, my beautiful cocker, got his stitches taken out and his cone off Monday. 

Boogie had to wear the cone for months, due to an irritated growth on his head, which has since been removed. Sweet by nature, he is clearly happy not to have to deal with the difficulties of not being able to judge the size of the cone when walking by things and also not being able to reach his ears to scratch. Released from both the cone and the growth, Boogie is now free to enjoy his adult puppyhood.

For the two of us, life is just waiting to happen. I can’t help but think that the physical healing is just the beginning of greater spiritual and emotional growth. Soon, we will be in Princeton, after close to seven years in the South. But most importantly, getting the boot off got me the strangest compliment of my lifetime: “You look cute in two shoes.” The second strangest? “You look cute in that headband, like Gwen Stacy.”