The Horrors of a Hobbler

My friend who felt guilty because she thought that she caused my fall which resulted in a broken bone in my leg near my ankle came over this morning to fuss over me, but she had to leave at 11:00am. My next caretaker was due at 11:30. No problem; I can be by myself for a half-hour.

No sooner did she leave, then the man in Brown (UPS Delivery) pulled up. I hobble over to the door and he put a box inside, which I can’t bend down and pick up, because I can’t bend down with crutches! I looked like someone who would have appeared in an I Love Lucy show, with all the gyrations I was going through to try to lift up that box.

I began kicking the box down the hall, when the doorbell rang again. This time, it was FedEx. He didn’t wait; he left a big envelope that contained pain pads for my partner on the front stoop. Pain pads? My partner requires these for his disability. I thought it was oddly juxtaposed that here I am in such pain, and I have to retrieve a box from the front porch with pain pads in it!

I began trying to pick up that package up when I dropped not one, but both of my crutches and then lost my balance and settled down to my left knee (fortunately, I didn’t fall). There I am in PJs out on my front porch, cold, and in pain! I betcha the nebby neighbor across the street was watching on his private video system and laughing his head off.

TG my next helper arrived early. Imagine, an 80-year-old woman trying to help a 52-year-old bearish guy up off the ground. Somehow through the use of leverage and ingenuity, with a dab of patience, we made it. I got resettled into my comfy chair and got ice back on the ankle. But for a while there, I was afraid my partner would come home to find me frozen out on the lawn!

Sheesh… no more doorbells for me!

Check back for updates on The Horrors of the Hobbler, a new mini-series suggested by my best friend, AZ, to be written, published, and sold shorty. LOL!

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