My feet are not what they used to be. One of the perils of growing old is watching your body parts let you down. There is nothing you can do about it, which makes the process all the more frustrating.
There’s good news and bad news. The good news is: we finally made it to Melbourne! We’re on the outskirts right now, but we’re just going to wind our way in. It’s not like we’re in any sort of rush.
The bad news: I’ve injured my foot. As in, really twisted it thoroughly. All this way away from any of the podiatrists we know. Helena used to have a bit of trouble way back in the day.
We knew this Cheltenham podiatrist who we visited regularly, back when we lived near the bay. He’s long gone now, and it’s not like he’d be any use anyway. That’s the thing about going on a trip: suddenly everything that was so familiar ceases to be so. You have to find things for yourself. Right now, we’re cruising around trying to find someone who can fix up my feet.
It was a silly accident, really. I wasn’t wearing my supports or orthotics, and I went to pick up the water tank. I must have stepped wrong, because…well, I’ll spare you the gruesome details. It was quite painful, and I can’t drive until I get it fixed. So it looks like we’ll be hanging around Melbourne for a while, though that was the plan anyway. I’m hoping I won’t need crutches, but it’s very much looking like it’s going to be that way. At least nothing’s broken- Ursula used her old nurse’s training to confirm that. It still means mobility is going to be down for a while.
Anyway, some custom orthotics and a bit of rest and I’m sure I’ll be as good as new.
It’s times like these that make me glad I’m not a horse.