MY FEET

In this case, I should say the right foot because that's what it is.
Three days ago, I fell off the ladder while pruning my son's cedar hedge. It was kind of funny to see the ladder, in slow motion, heading towards the ground. Now I know what I should have done, which was to jump with both feet in one direction and then roll forward, but no, I let myself go and fell on my right ankle as my head hit the bottom of the shed.

The ankle, sprained royally, prevents me from walking on the right foot. I soak it in ice water for twenty minutes once an hour. I massage it with a balm and hope it will be okay.

The purpose of this memo is to follow up on an article I read only a week ago that extolled the virtues of feet. This is an article that came to me via the Internet from one of my various sources of information, lifeline-owner@torah.or on behalf of Project Genesis.

When was the last time we danced with joy, because we have feet to dance with. It was my privilege to communicate with a man from Connecticut who was paralyzed after a motorcycle accident. He is discovering opportunities to learn, he is growing, he is reaching out to the world through the Internet - you can feel the joy and excitement in his life.
What about those who can’t use their feet? Do we thank God because we feel it or as an afterthought?

Well, lately, I have never felt the moral pain that such a temporary handicap could cause. At the end of the day, to go to sleep, I have to climb the stairs to the second floor. There is no question of using crutches, so here I am on my knees, climbing them one by one.
The image of St. Joseph's Oratory came back to me where the repentant had to climb the stairs leading to the Oratory on their knees. A painful exercise. In my case it was on carpet, but the operation was painful and humiliating.

It was the same thing in the morning when I went down to have my coffee.
This time it was on my backside that I went down the stairs one by one. I can't believe how much I miss my feet. The stairs were never designed to be descended like that. But for lack of blackbirds, we eat thrushes. And what's worse, every three or four steps -there are fifteen- I have to stop to catch my breath.

Let's talk about crutches. I have come to discover that they are the worst invention ever invented. Not only because of the pain in the armpits, but because of the fact that if you handle them wrong, you lose your balance when you only have one leg to rely on.

When will this ordeal end?
God I love my right foot and miss it so much. I am angry at myself for damaging it and it seems to punish me for not respecting it enough for all that it has always allowed me to do.

And to think that I knew the ladder was not firmly anchored to the ground. Yes, I knew it, and yet I climbed it because nothing can happen to me, right?
Why do we insist on doing what we shouldn't do?

It's now eleven days since the famous accident. I have stopped dipping my foot in the ice water, I keep it high, when at rest, but I walk a little. I go up and down the stairs one by one but end up on my knees going up and on my butt going down. I feel the pain is still there. Everyone around me says it will take two to three weeks and I'm losing patience.

I had planned to drive to Florida in two days and I'm wondering if this is a good idea. I will have to keep my foot on the pedal twelve hours a day for two days and I wonder how good my reflex will be if I have to brake quickly. I also have to go to a trade show in Orlando to meet a friend-client from Puerto Rico. The problem arises and I have to solve it in the next few hours.

Logically, health comes first. Why take unnecessary risks. I have already taken them, the proof is the story of the ladder.
If I postpone by a week, I will only stay in Florida for three weeks instead of four, because I intend to make a detour on my way back and go through Little Rock, Ark before taking the I 81 North to Canada. We'll see.