After four weeks with this Dr. Suessish, Lily Pulitzeresque heavy log of a cast it's finally the day to get this beast off.I expect the worst.
When I came to the Ortho Clinic 4 weeks ago, in pain, on crutches, I had to park far far away and hobble in through the rain praying to not slip. This time, I have rock star parking, the first non-handicapped spot to the left. Awesome.
The wait is short and soon enough my cast is off (and yes, I declined to bring it home and/or put it on ebay and/or keep it for the Smithsonian) and I'm sent for Xrays.
I *do* want to keep the black boot part because I want to bring it to Cuba for my cousin who constantly breaks her foot. I feel sorry for her because she's a doctor in a land full of doctors but with almost no medical supplies. Not a great place to live but probably the best setting ever for a good Twilight Zone story.
I leave the black walking boot that covered my cast on the stool of my chair and go to Xrays.
When I come back there is a gentleman in the spot next to mine - not unexpected because we are all lined up in a row of 10 beds like an old hospital ward. I guess broken bones rate low on the privacy scale because there is literally no way to talk to any patient or review any Xray without all of us hearing it.
The last time I was here, everyone pretended they couldn't see or hear anyone else, which was weird but it worked.
This time the stranger gentleman next to me is talking to this guy and that guy, suggesting someone get this and that.
The doctor sees him first and sends him for something and as this guy walked by he laughingly swatted at my newly-uncasted, still broken foot.
He actually didn't hit it, and I didn't flinch. My ninja training paid off (again).
Pleased I didn't scream like a girl (I guess) this joking stranger smiled at me and limped off to where he was going.
The doctor sees me and sends me back off for more xrays. When I get back the stranger gentleman is back, smiling.
Now I notice he has a boot on his foot like the one I had over my cast. Instead of covering a cast, his boot is just covering a sock.
Did you get your cast off today? I point at his foot.
He says yes and points at his hand, which has a finger still oddly twisted.
The doctor comes back and gives him this paper and that one and says this and that and normally I'm the best spy *EVERRRRR* but I can't concentrate because as the man stands up to walk out I notice he has 2 similar walking boots -- one on his foot and one in his hand.
I look down, my boot is gone.
THE BOOT I WAS BRINGING TO CUBA IS GONE!
Another person (#boring) would have said "Excuse me sir, please, that's my boot" and "Hey, buddy, are you BootJacking me?"
But I have been raised by forces that have taught me to let go, let go, let go.
If someone here and now needs this boot so badly they would bootjack me, let them have it, let it bless them now.
I guess the boot wasn't meant for Cuba. Blessings go where they are needed, right?
So, OK, I have to say something, so I say, "I hope you enjoy your boots" to which he responds with a the a nod then limps off.
The doctor turned to me.
I want to blurt out
THAT MAN TOOK THE BOOT THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HUMANITARIAN AID TO SAVE COMMUNISTS FROM LIMPING AND TO SHOW THE AWESOME ABUNDANCE AND GENEROSITY OF CAPITALISTS AND AMERICA BUT NO NOW IT WONT HAPPEN. THERE GOES WORLD PEACE!!!
I don't say any of that.
I smile and get this form and that instruction and get ready to go where he's sending me.
As I tuck the paperwork away the doctor leans down next to me and scoops up something black that was sitting right out of my view ..... "Do you want to take your boot with you?"
I nod, yes, and say thank you, I'm taking this boot to Cuba.
When I came to the Ortho Clinic 4 weeks ago, in pain, on crutches, I had to park far far away and hobble in through the rain praying to not slip. This time, I have rock star parking, the first non-handicapped spot to the left. Awesome.
The wait is short and soon enough my cast is off (and yes, I declined to bring it home and/or put it on ebay and/or keep it for the Smithsonian) and I'm sent for Xrays.
I *do* want to keep the black boot part because I want to bring it to Cuba for my cousin who constantly breaks her foot. I feel sorry for her because she's a doctor in a land full of doctors but with almost no medical supplies. Not a great place to live but probably the best setting ever for a good Twilight Zone story.
I leave the black walking boot that covered my cast on the stool of my chair and go to Xrays.
When I come back there is a gentleman in the spot next to mine - not unexpected because we are all lined up in a row of 10 beds like an old hospital ward. I guess broken bones rate low on the privacy scale because there is literally no way to talk to any patient or review any Xray without all of us hearing it.
The last time I was here, everyone pretended they couldn't see or hear anyone else, which was weird but it worked.
This time the stranger gentleman next to me is talking to this guy and that guy, suggesting someone get this and that.
The doctor sees him first and sends him for something and as this guy walked by he laughingly swatted at my newly-uncasted, still broken foot.
He actually didn't hit it, and I didn't flinch. My ninja training paid off (again).
Pleased I didn't scream like a girl (I guess) this joking stranger smiled at me and limped off to where he was going.
The doctor sees me and sends me back off for more xrays. When I get back the stranger gentleman is back, smiling.
Now I notice he has a boot on his foot like the one I had over my cast. Instead of covering a cast, his boot is just covering a sock.
Did you get your cast off today? I point at his foot.
He says yes and points at his hand, which has a finger still oddly twisted.
The doctor comes back and gives him this paper and that one and says this and that and normally I'm the best spy *EVERRRRR* but I can't concentrate because as the man stands up to walk out I notice he has 2 similar walking boots -- one on his foot and one in his hand.
I look down, my boot is gone.
THE BOOT I WAS BRINGING TO CUBA IS GONE!
Another person (#boring) would have said "Excuse me sir, please, that's my boot" and "Hey, buddy, are you BootJacking me?"
But I have been raised by forces that have taught me to let go, let go, let go.
If someone here and now needs this boot so badly they would bootjack me, let them have it, let it bless them now.
I guess the boot wasn't meant for Cuba. Blessings go where they are needed, right?
So, OK, I have to say something, so I say, "I hope you enjoy your boots" to which he responds with a the a nod then limps off.
The doctor turned to me.
I want to blurt out
THAT MAN TOOK THE BOOT THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HUMANITARIAN AID TO SAVE COMMUNISTS FROM LIMPING AND TO SHOW THE AWESOME ABUNDANCE AND GENEROSITY OF CAPITALISTS AND AMERICA BUT NO NOW IT WONT HAPPEN. THERE GOES WORLD PEACE!!!
I don't say any of that.
I smile and get this form and that instruction and get ready to go where he's sending me.
As I tuck the paperwork away the doctor leans down next to me and scoops up something black that was sitting right out of my view ..... "Do you want to take your boot with you?"
I nod, yes, and say thank you, I'm taking this boot to Cuba.
