I'll Tumble 4 Ya

Well, spring is over and none too soon. I begin this summer in my second week of wearing a lovely "post-operative sandal" on my right foot. I have not had an operation, but that's what it's called. I think I hurt it May 6 when I decided I would be a big girl and drive to Southfield during rush hour. Well, apparently one does NOT merge onto Telegraph as if it were a freeway, even though that's what it looks like from the other freeway because it turns out CARS ARE STOPPED at the entrance. Fortunately, my companion shouted "Slow down!" as I was looking off to the side for my opening, or it would have been much worse. I was wearing high heels and punched the brake pedal as hard as I could. I did hit the car ahead of me, but not hard enough to deploy anyone's airbags. So in the next couple of days, day, when I complained my leg and my foot hurt, no one was paying attention as my mother had just had her entire left breast removed and was indeed being a big, brave girl. My foot continued to swell over the next few weeks so I finally made a doctor appointment. In the days leading up to the doctor appointment, I went to the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon (rush hour again) and stepped up to a sample booth to get a little cup of potato chips. While my back was turned, a young man from a beer distributing company had pushed up an empty hand truck, flatbed, whatever, behind me,and looked off to the side. I turned around and banged my shin on it, and as I was absorbing the pain, still not looking, he continued to push it, and I took a SPECTACULAR fall...there was actual tumbling. There was much attention offered, and I gladly received all of it, but mainly I was worried about my foot. Now I have lovely bruises (healing now) on both my shins and up my left leg. My work schedule was changed and I had to put off the doc appointment a few days, but we finally discovered I had fractured my second metatarsal. Fortunately, it seems to be healing, and I'm totally getting out of all kinds of summer chores. I'm pretty sure I fractured it in the car accident, but the grocery store fall didn't help. So the guy from the beer distributing company called and apologized, and asked if my husband was a beer drinker, and if he played golf, etc. so they're going to send him a golf shirt. (he also said to call him if I had some medical bills from the accident, which i didn't.) He finally asked if there was anything they could do for me, and I said, "Well, I drink beer." (Not that I want a shirt.) Now we're just waiting for my foot to heal so I can go shoe shopping again, and waiting for our gifts. I'm also not leaving the house much without a chaperone.