Foot fault

Wednesday was one of those blustery, rainy days that give fall a bad name.
Fall. Hah. Now there is some irony. Or is it coincidence. I've always had trouble with those two.
So, Wednesday. Yes. I was not running late for Rotary like usual because the Ump took care of the dogs and I didn't have to run home before going to lunch. I was looking forward to Wednesday's Rotary meeting because my Rotary anniversary would be announced. I have been in the Woodstock club for 12 years. I am involved in many different community organizations, but Rotary is one of my favorites. I have gotten as much out of it as I have put into it - it's hard to say that about most things.
But I'm getting off the trail here.
So when I arrived at the meeting place, I noticed there were many more cars there than usual. I figured since I was early, I might be able to grab a parking place near the door since it was cold and rainy.
Unfortunately, I picked Wednesday to wear my green suede suit and new brown suede shoes. Well, it wasn't raining when I left the house.
So, I parked at the first available space and debated on whether or not to take an umbrella. I just don't like dealing with them and only use them when it is really pouring.
It was only spitting rain and the wind was really gusting, so I chose to leave everything in the car except the $7 in cash for lunch and my car keys.
I wasn't even hustling to get into the building, but I was watching the money that was whipping back and forth in my hand. I was not watching my feet. Too bad.
I stepped right into a pothole that was full of muddy water. The right foot went into the pothole and I landed - first on my knees and then on my hands - in the muddy water and dirt.
My inclination was to hop up. You know that feeling that you get when you take a tumble. "Man, I hope no one saw me..." And you jump up and pretend like nothing happened.
Only problem was I could not jump out of this pothole. It was like my leg was stuck in there.
So, I rolled to the side, extricating my foot from the hole, and taking a look at my other knee which was dripping with blood and mud.
I spotted a Rotarian's car coming around the corner and decided to make the Herculean effort to get up before I was spotted. He did see me struggling, and came running to see if he could help, but I waved him off. I was embarrassed and injured and all I wanted to do was go home.
First, however, I snatched the soaked dollar bill that remained from my $7 off the wet pavement and collected the car keys that I had pitched 20 feet ahead of me when I fell.
I sat in the car a minute and regrouped. Both legs were screaming pain songs - the left knee and the right foot.
As I headed for home, I changed my mind and pulled up at the meeting place and went into the front desk and asked to speak to the manager. In strangled words, I told her to look at me and see what happened when I stepped in the pothole on their parking lot.
I don't think I was complete rational. I was in so much pain and my dignity was a shredded as my pantyhose. I think I wound the conversation up by telling them that I had lost $6 in the parking lot and I wanted it back.
When I got home, I called the Ump who was handling In School Suspension (ISS) at the time. I barely got my story out of my mouth before he said he was coming home.
As a football coach, the Ump has been around a lot of injuries. He used tweezers to pick the threads of hose burned into my knee by my asphalt plunge. Then he felt my foot and moved my toes, trying to determine what was wrong.
His analysis was a bad sprain.
I did not go back to work that afternoon and I continued to walk on that foot until after work on Friday, when the Ump convinced me to go to the emergency room to get it checked out.
BINGO. I have a broken bone in my foot.
The doc couched his diagnosis with the old "I've got good news and bad news." The good news was no surgery. The bad news was - I will be on crutches for three to six weeks.
Actually, there was one other piece of good news and that was that he didn't see any arthritis in my foot. "At your age, you deserve to have some," he told me - a statement which on its own merits clearly would go in the bad news category.
So, I'm hopping around and trying to stay off my foot and keep it elevated and all that jazz. It's difficult. Because I cannot do things, now I want to do them. I could have helped the Ump clean up the lawn today and put away the mowers and air conditioners etc., but I couldn't do it.
Now, under normal circumstance, I might have complained about spending my Sunday doing these chores, but because I could not participate, I really wanted to help.
When I think about it, I remember there was another broken bone. I broke my little toe when I was in college. That required a trip to the emergency room and a very painful impromptu realignment.
My Friday trip to the emergency room was much milder. I got to ride in a wheel chair. Everyone was friendly. Not many emergencies - though I could hear someone coughing and hacking a few doors down.
Two hours later I was learning how to use crutches and getting fitted for a protective boot.
This all has a vaguely familiar feel to it. Ten days before Christmas last year, the Ump feel and tore his quad tendon in his knee and did have to have surgery.
My is the cheap version of his, I guess. Thanksgiving instead of Christmas. And a minor bone break as compared to tearing a major tendon.
I'm grateful for the cut-rate accident. If for nothing else, just to have the Ump do the grocery shopping alone for the first time in our four years together.