try to contain your overwhelming enthusiasm. drum roll please, ladies and gentlemen.... i got my cast off today! wooo hooo!
alright, don’t get too excited. i’m in a walking boot for the next 3-5 weeks - one step at a time (punny? no?) as the ortho-tech sawed off the purple security blanket i’ve been lugging around for the last 3 weeks, tears of joy sprang to my eyes. “hello left foot! oh, how i have missed you!” i’m in the process of getting reacquainted with one of my favorite limbs and the doctor walks in (can’t a girl and her foot get any privacy?!)...
dr: you’re foot is healing perfectly. wear the boot all the time, except to sleep, shower, and drive.
me: drive? i’ve been driving.
dr: (disapproving frown)
me: um... my left foot is broken. i’m right footed. haha...
dr: (disbelieving grimace)
me: isn’t everyone right footed? you know, when they drive?
dr: (starting to walk away)
me: i don’t drive a manual! i thought you said it was ok to drive!
then i realized - this doctor definitely told me i could drive. this guy doesn’t realize what foot i broke! is this for real? i guess he kinda looks like the sort of dude who wouldn’t even bother to glance down to see which one of us is correct. you know the type; silver fox, walks around with an arrogant smile, talking into a tape recorder: “the subject’s displaced blahbadey-blah will have highest probability of of rehabilitation with surgical suchity-such.” alright man, i get it. you’re super rich and smart and know all about bones and stuff. what do you want, a medal? i’d at least expect you to know which foot i broke! geez!
and by the way! mr. dr foot guy! if you’re reading this! ..... hehe, just kididng..... you, uh, rock.... um, and you’re really intelligent and good looking.... please don’t put me back in a cast...
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