Using Dad, for a Crutch

As I write this, Taylor and her mother are out trick-or-treating. Anxiously, I await report of her adventure. Last year it was a little overwhelming and she went into a shell. I'm not there. It's a long story.

It all started as I was flying through the air. Actually, Destiny's wheel was set in motion over 30 years ago, when I first picked up a golf club. All the subsequent years of pounding golf balls, driving through with my right side, has altered my body. 

That's the only explanation I have for the unnatural behavior regarding my big right toe. For as long as I can remember... at least five years, a war has been waged. While most nails coexist peacefully with their neighbor; With disturbances such as, untended cuticles, or earthen smuggling, and occasional hostilities rising in the form of a hangnail. The nail-toe relations on the toe in question has degraded into rage-filled assault.  I won't go into detail here, this is family material, but you wouldn't think a nail could dig that deep, or that a river create the Grand Canyon, or a glacier carve the Great Plains. Given time, nature can do most anything.  Wonderful if you're visiting a national park, not so wonderful if natures digging happens in your toe. My toe has long lost the battle, but to me it's only a nuisance. Sure it flares up once in a while, and a day in golf shoes will leave me limping for the evening, but for the most part it doesn't affect my day to day life.

Then there was this Saturday.  The family was up fairly early.  Linda was with Taylor at her table, finishing  breakfast while completing a puzzle.  Luna was at my feet, anxious to play after a night in the kennel. A quick peek out back indicated an overnight rainfall. Realizing  a game of fetch in the back"yard" would quickly give birth to Mud-luna, which would lead to the game of mop the floor and wash the dog, I decided a walk might be better.

Luna Lounging

With Luna in tow, I retreated to don shoes.  As soon as they were laced I knew I wasn't going to take a walk with Luna.  A walk to the mailbox maybe, but the toe hurt too much to take a Luna length walk. Then I had an idea.  Just a couple of days ago, I'd hung our bikes in the carport. Finally, after 10 years, they had their place.  It's my belief that when something has it's place it gets used more. Not only do you know where it is, but there is the satisfaction you get putting it back in it's place. That segment is done, your mind is free to move on.

Whatever the reason, I decided it was time Luna learned to go for a walk with a bike. Linda displayed a hint of concern when I proudly announced my intentions. This reaction is not uncommon after I unveil plans, so gracefully I placated her fears.  Luna listens to me, fairly well.  I ride a bike, fairly well.  Just last week I spent 12 hours fixing pot-holes, so our road was fairly smooth. Confident in the soundness of my decision, I proceeded to grab the leash and head for the back door.

Luna's excitement over peanut butter is only rivaled by leashes. So you can imagine her dismay having to wait while I put air in my tires. (I said I hung them up, not that I got them ready to ride).  After about five minutes, or three years in Luna time, I was ready to head out.  I should have been nervous, seeing Luna work on her frightened bunny impersonation as I walked the bike across the yard.  Excitedly darting back and forth, jumping up and taking a couple steps on two legs before realizing she needed all four.  She was attached to a leash and that meant walk.  But the bike?  Possibilities were endless, and she wanted to try it out.

Ready

The Ride

Once we got to the drive in front of our house, I had Luna sit while I mounted up.  I looked at Luna. While sitting as instructed, she was not relaxed. As the seconds dragged, her spring wound tighter. I took inventory of my safety gear.  Worn out running shoes with no-show socks, check. Basketball shorts and T-Shirt, `check.  Nike golf cap, check.

I announce the start of our adventure, "Let's go, com'on."  She cautiously trots off, still not sure what to make of her situation. Her leash is one of those retractable types that extend out to about 15 feet, and locks at intermediate lengths with a push of your thumb. With a little effort she is running around smoothly as my thumb keeps off the slack. It's a little tricky to get used to, but once you have it down it's like riding a bike.

Things are uneventful for the first hundred yards with Luna trotting about my 2 o'clock, in a semi-straight direction. Then a bush catches her eye. I see her stop to sniff as I pedal by. As I give command to come, the leash goes taut and I quickly release my grip. The leash falls to the ground and retracts back to Luna. During its retrieval, I express the need for continuous motion to Luna. She cocks her head with a look of understanding and we continue. I pick up the speed a little bit to dissuade future sudden stops.

Upon reaching the paved road, I have two choices.  Turn left for a short road leading to a cul-de-sac or turn right to roam the neighborhood.  In a rare moment of clarity, I choose left.  Better to test our skill on a quiet cul-de-sac. I quickly realize this was the smart choice, as Luna easily covers every inch of the pavement and every yard is a new temptation to stop for a sniff. With a steady stream of vocal encouragement, and some nifty thumb work, we navigate the short circuit back to our road. With data collected on Luna's performance, I decide our best option would be to stay on the lime-stone and make several passes over the same path.

Lets go!

"Well, if we're goin' short distance, mines-well spice it up a bit."  With that, I set off toward the house at a much healthier pace.  The faster I pedal, the faster Luna runs, easily keeping ahead of me. A couple of times I lock up the tires as she darts in front of the bike. I've experienced a small adrenaline jolt and come through unscathed. I've seen this happen before, it never ends well.  I pedal a little faster.

I make the hard right at the yellow house, noticing what's left of the lime-rock pile. As I increase speed, I start to realize how much of the dirt I'd moved and packed into ruts has been washed away. Then I notice the hard, smooth, rain slicked lime-rock between the pot-holes. Then I notice the hard left, fast approaching.

Then, there is this blank moment, I can't fill in. Out of nowhere, I'm flying through the air. I notice both Luna and I are still moving and the leash is still in my possession. (although I can't recall my thumb position)  The bike, while still moving, has focused most of it's energy in performing the ever difficult front somersault. My hand hits the road as I use my arm to pole vault for extra distance. My shoulder touches down first, second, and third as I skid to a stop. 

Luna looks at me, cocks her head in understanding, and runs over to my side. I lay there for a moment to gather my senses.  My shoulder burns a bit as I pick a few pebbles out of my palm. I stand up and walk back to the bike in hopes of continuing. As they say, when you fall off a horse, it's best to get right back on. As I lift it up I notice a bunch of mud or muck on my ankle. So I bend down to wipe it off as Luna comes over to lick.  It doesn't take more than two or three times of the muck coming back that I realize it isn't mud, it's blood.  At the rate it's coming, I surmise the bike riding is over and start to hobble back to the house. Luckily, I was a chip shot from home, because before I got half way across the yard I could hear my shoe squishing.

I walked up to the back door thinking of exactly how I'm going to explain this one. Something about forgetting being 41. I look in and see the girls, still sitting at their table. As I open the door I hear "That was quick." followed immediately with "What happened to you?"  We ventured, as a family, back to the tub to access the damage. Taylor was thrilled to see the boo-boos. She might have been put off a little by the amount of blood, but she insisted I wash every bit out of my shoe and sock.  Once that was accomplished to her satisfaction, we found the bleeding offender. It was quite small, maybe 3/4" long. We found an appropriate band-aid and covered the hole.  Then I took off my shirt and saw a much more offensive looking wound on my shoulder, but very superficial. With some gauze, ointment, and medical tape that was easily treated.

The Arts

Okay, now what?  Linda has her class at noon.  Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.  No, I don't need a doctor. It's only a flesh wound. You go to class, T and I are going to chalk up the patio.  It's a little wet, but I am able to dry off an area. 

Chalk!! I'm so happy, CHALK!!.

Unfortunately T often just wants me to draw her things. I draw her a story of me falling off my bike.  She thinks it's funny.  I draw a few hopscotch boards (none of them regulation) and show T how to play.  She makes me draw them smaller and smaller until her foot covers half the board.  Finally, we take a page from one of her favorite movies "Mary Poppins" and we color in the squares. Taylor wants me to fill in all the squares but I convince her to color two all by herself.  They look great.

An artist puts up with the paparazzi.

Deep in design

Making a trail for the ant to follow.

The Ankle - Phase II
Using Dad - For a Crutch

I'll speed this up since it's already long and there is much to cover.  Soon after we finished drawing, Linda arrived home from class.  They were going to head out while I watched some college football.  I noticed the band-aid on my ankle was now blood soaked. Upon removal the blood starting flowing again. Obviously this cut would need some more attention.  I covered the area with a pad of gauze and tightly wrapped my foot and ankle.  It still didn't hurt too bad, just a little throbbing. With that taken care of I headed to watch the game.

Over the next four hours, the pain grew more and more. The ankle didn't get much worse, but the game hurt. Yes, we lost.  Four in a row now.  It is a rebuilding year and I have enough to occupy my mind these days so I am taking the slide incredibly well. I did see enough enjoyable games to make the viewing worth while.

By evening, the throbbing in my ankle had increased and walking became more difficult. Laying down was even more uncomfortable. I managed a couple hours sleep but soon found out the price was dear.  I had set the alarm to wake early so I could make doughnuts before Linda and Taylor went to church. Since I'd gone to bed around 3:00 AM I thought waking up would be tough.  I was mistaken. The ankle decided to wake me up long before the alarm. Unable to stay in bed,  I decided to just get up.  Only to find out I couldn't.

Any movement made me wince and attempts to stand were met with searing pain up my leg. I crawled, hopped, and swung my way to the back door where Dad's putter has resided lately. Flipping it over and grabbing the head fashioned a nice makeshift cane.  Albeit a dangerous one.  Before the ankle loosened up, and during subsequent flare ups, when I was exerting my full weight on the club,  I often feared the shaft would snap and stab me in the wrist. (It could happen, I should know... I own a scar on my wrist from a golf club stab wound.)

I made the doughnuts (Thank you Aunt Betty) and they were a hit as always. After Linda and Taylor were off, I settled down in a chair to take the weight off my foot as, although the bleeding had stopped, it had now swollen badly on the cut side.  Annoyed with myself, I thought at least I have something to write about.

Sunday afternoon the church holds something called Trunk-or-Treat. Family's give candy out of their cars and there are activities set up such as a petting zoo and bouncy house among other things. I was looking forward to going as a family to get pictures but unfortunately I was unable.  I did however get a few pictures of T in her outfit before they left.

"Just one time"

"Oh, football is on!"

Mommy Says "Be careful, you'll end up like Daddy."

Taylor likes making her nervous.

Ready for Trunk-or-Treat

Halloween Haunts

Monday started much in the way Sunday did.  I was unable to walk up waking, but I'd learned my lesson and Dad's putter was right there to help.  As Sunday, the ankle loosened up for a while.  Then the pain came back full force making it near impossible to move even with the putter.  I started to worry.  Perhaps I ripped something up inside and it's still bleeding. Maybe there was a fracture I was unaware of (unlikely because I could walk at times).  I finally relented, and let Linda set me up an appointment for later that afternoon at our doctor.  Finding it most comfortable to sit at the dining room table, I decided to carve the pumpkin we'd picked up last week.  Last year I'd carved with a jig-saw after the cheap carving kit started to fall apart.  This year I decided to try something different. I carved with an etching tool and chisels. Trying to play with light depth. It was pretty fun. I made a few mistakes and changed the design a bit as I went, but I think it turned out pretty well.  I'm looking forward to trying it again next year.  Another first this year.  Instead of throwing out the pumpkin seeds, I roasted them. One half garlic roasted and half with Old Bay seasoning.  They turned out pretty tasty.

I went to the doctor Monday afternoon. Two nurses commented on my unusual cane before I arrived in the examination room. After Doc arrived and saw the putter, he commented on how he has one just like it. We briefly discussed golf and the mental aspect of putting. As luck would have it, I was scheduled on the seventh to go over some blood work. Since the results had already arrived we discussed how the medication was working. Most of my numbers were falling in the normal range, so no changes were made.  Pleasantries aside, he looked over my ankle and ruled out internal bleeding.  At the time of the exam the ankle was flaring up making movement difficult. With such visual evidence it was hard to convince him I didn't need an x-ray. After writing a prescription for pain medication, and filling out an x-ray lab order, he sent me on my way with advice to get it x-ray'd if it didn't improve.

The Halloween Spirit

We got home in time for trick-or-treating.  Linda retrieved Taylor from Ms. Patti's (who was watching her while we were at the doctor) and got her changed for the night out.  Obviously I was in no shape to go, so I stayed home and starting writing this account, which I'm not finishing until two days later. Linda did bring home some pictures, so we can share them together.

To the door all by herself.  So proud!

Things are more fun with a friend.

T and S

The Police drove up and handed out some candy.

As for the evening at home.  It was eerily similar to Halloweens experienced growing up in the north woods, minus the cold.  There was only one knock at the door. The two girls from the compound across the street.  I was surprised our neighbor didn't knock.  Maybe it was because Linda's car was gone.  I often wonder if I am seen as an odd recluse to be avoided. Not that I mind it, kids knocking at your door can be so intimidating.

Well, that's the Halloween update.  Late as usual.  I think I'm out of the woods on my ankle.  Should be able to get by without the x-ray.  On a positive note. Doc said he could take care of my nail without a problem.  I didn't inquire the cost, but he implied it was a minor issue.  So I can take that positive out of the situation. I may have take him up on that offer some day, but my nail hasn't really bothered me the last few days. 

Hope this finds everyone well. I have some video of Luna to get up in the near future.

-T.A.