When I visited the orthopedic doctor last week, she gave me a cautionary green light to go on the planned photography workshop this week at the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I will need to sit and rest a spell whenever I feel foot pain. I am taking the huge orthopedic boot but will not be wearing it when the workshop group is shooting. I will either wear a hiking boot on my broken foot or else a post-op shoe. (I use the post-op shoe for driving.) A cane and hiking stick will also be at my disposal. I may not take very many images, but I will learn, participate fully in the classroom portions of the training, and get some of my portfolio critiqued. Most of all, I will have fellowship with other participants. The workshop’s pro photographer is okay with my approach and says that he will take good care of me.
March 24, 2015
My fears were not misplaced. I have a stress fracture in my right foot. Undoubtedly, the condition is the direct result of countless hours on my feet, providing caregiving service during Jim’s final months. It’s time to pay another price for the cancer that took his life.
I’ve been ordered stay off my feet as much as possible and wear an orthotic boot for many weeks until the bone heals. And I’m told that I cannot use anti-inflammatory arthritis medicine for the duration. The boot is huge and looks like galactic war apparel for a 7-foot storm trooper. And due to its design, I am having difficulty walking with it strapped on. Forget about driving with it. I am only capable of safely driving with a regular shoe on, so driving will have to be restricted. I plan to use a walker to help get around the house.
March 20, 2015
Scoot along if you want to be entertained and go read another blog. My widow’s life continues. So entertainment can’t be found here unless you have a vicarious streak. The title to this post should be a big clue!
Confession: I’m not inspired to blog. I’m not inspired to do much of anything, quite frankly. Life – taken as a whole - is no longer joyful. It seems rather pointless now that Jim is gone. The three-month anniversary of his death will arrive next week. Holidays, such as Easter next month, are no longer celebrated. They are merely another day on the calendar and spent alone. I manage to drag myself out of bed each morning and attempt to participate in life. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes not. I know that I have a lot of blessings, and I count them. But despair has a firm on my heart, regardless. I miss Jim terribly.
March 5, 2015
After enjoying temperatures yesterday in the mid-60s, gloomy weather has settled into east Tennessee. Cold rain is turning into sleet. The ground is covered with ice pellets. Before the storm system moves out of here, the precipitation will turn into snow.
Meanwhile, the external hard drive that I use for my iMac’s Time Machine backups decided to croak this morning. Coughed, sputtered, quit. Given the current road conditions, I can’t safely drive down to the local Best Buy and purchase another one today. Perhaps I can tomorrow. Ah, modern day problems!
In the dance of life, I can relate to the second paper crane from the left. How about you?
March 3, 2015
Of all of the months of the year, I have never been fond of February. The most dreadful winter weather occurs then, and it was especially spiteful this year. I honestly have lost track of how many ice and snowstorms came through east Tennessee in the past two weeks. I know that I shoveled more snow during that short period than the past five years. Thankfully, two neighborhood kids showed up for the last snow event and cleared my driveway and walk for some pocket change. I provided hot chocolate as refreshment and an additional reward after their job was done. And the electric power stayed on, so Angel and I were safe and warm. Thank you, God!
My blogging activities continue to be minimal. Grief and despair have a firm grip on my heart. Who in the world wants to read about all of that? And reading everybody’s happy-go-lucky posts about their contented, normal lives only provides a dramatic comparison of how mine is not. The two-month anniversary of Jim’s death was last week. I spent the day alone, like most days, and I cried a lot. Welcome to my depressing world.
I don’t blame you if you click out now and go visiting a blog that talks about a fun shopping adventure, cheerful family event, or new recipe. Go ahead and scoot if you are looking for amusement. No worries or hard feelings.