Baby Steps

Somehow I managed the feat of never having an injury that required the use of crutches over the span of my 49 years. Was I just that careful? Possibly. There was that time when I had a four-wheeler wreck that I probably should have had some, but I was skipping school at the time and none of us who knew about the wreck ever told anyone it had happened. Besides, the limp wasn’t all that bad.

Then, I had a problem with my toes. As I’ve told others, on my right foot, my second toe was trying to sneak up and overtake my big toe, dragging Toe No. 3 along with it, which pulled Toe No. 4 and Toe No. 5 into the fray. All this caused the joint at the outside of my foot to protrude like a bunion even though it wasn’t. I needed surgery to go in and put Toe No. 2 in its place and fix it so that it would remember its place.

Part of the rehab after this intervention for my toes requires that I not put the foot down with any weight upon it. Think about that. You might even try it. Hold your right foot up off the ground and do some of your daily tasks without letting it touch.

The first obstacle was getting into the house. We have four steps to the porch that had to be mounted. On crutches.

Like a calf at the proverbial new gate, I gazed at the steps, crutches in place and contemplated those steps. Somehow these steps that were in truth no more than the normal 10 inches seemed to be stories high and there was no way my body was going to be propelled up them.

What to do?

Recall the parting words of one of the nurses at the surgical center, “You might have to go up steps like a baby.”

And that’s what I did. I sat down on the second one — my height placed me right there as I lowered down. Then I placed my hands on each side of me on the step and pushed my bottom up to the next step.

I’m not sure that this qualifies as me entering my second childhood, but it certainly solved that problem.

No related posts.