For my first trick, when I got dressed this morning, I PUT ON JEANS! Yes! Jeans fit over my current brace, whereas for the last two weeks I've been wearing one form or another of jogging suit. (Curiously addictive, btw.) As soon as I was dressed, I felt like me again. Jeans, t-shirt, 20 year old denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up.Which is actually all I needed to wear all day, no jacket or anything in my way. It was in the 60s today, sunny and beautiful, although there were still wet leaves everywhere. Beautiful day.
I went out to the car around 8:30, gingerly eased myself into it, and backed up to the edge of the driveway. I DROVE MY CAR! Yes! Soon after, I figured out what I needed to do, grabbed what I had to bring with me, and left the house.
It was wonderful. I was out, I was by myself, I was getting things done. Hit the bank, the cleaners, and the pharmacy, one-two-three. Next stop was unfortunately the poliice station. :(
They are just nuts there. I wasn't dealing so much with the police, although they were the ones who told me I couldn't come in through the handicapped entrance until I shouted into their hidden speaker: "I'M ON CRUTCHES! I HAVE A BROKEN LEG!" and then I got in. Their real handicapped entrance has been removed for renovation and this is really their back door. I think they need maybe a camera or something.
Anyway, our police station and muncipal offices share a building, and I was really going to ... well, I don't know which one, to get a temporary handicapped parking tag. I gave the woman behind the glass all the forms and she said I should give her my phone number and they'd call me when it was ready. Uh ... no. I was told over the phone it would be done while I waited, and who on crutches needs to leave, go home, come back, etc. etc.? She said the woman who did this was busy, and I could have a seat. Half a freakin' hour later, she said that it needed to be signed by the Chief of Police, who was out today (!) and she was trying to get the captain to sign it. Are these petty people not just assholes with an itty bit of power which has totally gone to their heads? Finally, I told one of the officers (one of the few who is not a former student) what I was waiting for, and he went in, got it signed, brought it right out to me, and held the door so I could get out. He was a human with compassion, anyway. The others, not so much.
Armed with my tag, I went to Barnes and Noble and then Shop Rite. I brought Boo in to be groomed and then went back and picked him up later.
Nothing hurts. I'm not walking with a normal gait yet, but the brace does kind of prevent that; even so, this is just millions of times better than what I had on just yesterday. The doctor said to keep using the one crutch, so I am, but I imagine I'll be more comfortable with a cane by the end of next week. I'm not sure if the cane I have can be properly adjusted, though, so I may dig out the one my mother used, which I have in a closet somewhere. She was well under five feet tall when it was adjusted for her height, so I know I won't have trouble lengthening it for me; my problem is getting stuff like that that's small enough. Did I mention that they couldn't fit me for standard-size adult crutches?
Anyway, tomorrow is supposed to be another beautiful day. I'm plannning a CVS run first thing in the morning, and then to take advantage of a sale thing I got in the mail for Old Navy. In the afternoon, a lovely relaxing facial and then a haircut.
Speaking of tomorrow morning, keep your fingers crossed for R, who has an interview for a real-life grown-up job. After which I think she's going to see Borat for the second time. So it's all relative, this grown-up thing. I'm just saying.
(House and Senate and Secretary of Defense and Ambassador to the U.N. is next. Excellent.)
