Footsie

Today was an exciting day indeed, and since it's been a while since a MBLF-centric post, I think I'll let you in on my morning.

• 5 am: Alarm goes off. J gets up and staggers to kitchen to prep for first day of big new job at Kodak. Col resigns herself to never being able to buy the SLR she so desires, on account of wanting to keep J gainfully employed, and so rolls over and goes back to sleep.
• 5:01 am: Cat jumps on Col. Col swats cat.
• 5:15 am: Meow. {swat}
• 5:25 am: Meow. {swat}
• 5:45 am: Meow. {swat}
• 6 am: J rushes in and out of shower. Col stretches.
• 6:30 am: J off to work. Col grooms.
• 7:45 am: Col departs home and arrives at lab, greeted by the oddly disturbing statues of 6-foot tall male and female penguins dressed as doctors. Friendly neighborhood phlebotomist Karen begins the leeching process for regular PT/INR blood tests.
• 8:04 am: Col, lighter a few vials of blood, starts off.
• 8:24 am: Col arrives at Building D, also known as the home of the inimitable Dr. G. No handicapped parking spots are available. Col ponders the fact that Building D is ALL orthopedics: sports rehab, PT, hand and foot orthos, prosthetics, imaging ... and yet there are only eight total handicapped parking spaces for all us walking wounded. Odd.
• 8:30 am: Col checks into the Dr. G suite. Appointments secretary is first to say it: "You're walking! You look so good!" Extra bonus points: "Great cane!"
• 8:45 am: Glow-in-the-dark time. Nurse Gina: "You're walking! Look at you!" Col stumps into x-ray and has the customary three-shot. X-ray tech is taken aback at not having to give instructions on how to turn and position.
• 9:00 am: Photo op over; Col installed in spacious corner room with my cell phone and the latest New Yorker from home. Waiting for Dr. G.
• 9:10 am: Waiting for Dr. G.
• 9:20 am: Waiting for Dr. G.
• 9:30 am: The door opens and ... Dr. G. Col waits for the orthogroupies to enter but ... what is this?! Dr. G is ... ALONE!
• 9:31 am: Dr. G shakes hands and then goes *right* for the cane. "This is great," he says as he lifts, twirls, weighs and inspects. "WHERE did you get this?"
• 9:45 am: Col shows off new walking tricks, and then movesthe x-ray which shows some foot bones have fused -- nothing too serious but does mean some reduced mobility. All looks good otherwise. PT is perscribed @ 2x/week for one more month, then 1ce/wk for one month, then done. Footwear is discussed, and Dr. G extends handicapped parking permit, signs a waver to get Col back to the gym (WOOT!) and perscribes compression socks. With the wearing of said-socks, Col isnow officially 98 years old.
• 9:50 am: Dr. G and Col talk about the value of patience, and he begins the customary twirl out the door -- but with a joke (!) about next time Col seeshim, putting the cane up for sale on E-bay ... or not, because it IS a cool cane. And then he's gone, on to the next. A note: explore gifts for Dr. G involving a flame motif.
• 10:10 am: Col finally at work. Blood test results: 2.3 PT/INR. Ladies and gentlemen, we have FINALLY reached therapeutic levels! And a double WOOT!
• 10:11 am - 5 pm: Slavery.
• 5:00 pm: Off to PT.