One leg down (Hmmm... maybe I shouldn't use that expression...) I'll start over: One segment of my trip down, two to go. I left at 1 pm today and I'm so glad I did. I could drive mostly in daylight and I was getting drowsy near the end. I do have a book on CD which I'm really enjoying so it was an easy trip. The only fly in the ointment is bathroom stops. Of course, I've figured out the least amount of walking involved. Today I used the state "rest areas" -- always close up parking and benches along the sidewalk. They also have the "family/handicapped restroom." These are not full size rest stops, just parking and a building with restrooms and some vending machines -- you can walk your dog, picnic tables etc.
I remember when I broke my ankle how grateful I was for accommodation such as toilet grab bars and curb cuts. A curb might as well be 4 feet tall when you have to go up one step and have nothing to hold on to.
I had been ruminating about the crutches which I have not used. Right or wrong, they make me feel uncoordinated and off balance. I could not decide what to do with them -- take them, leave them... to such an extent that I couldn't make a decision. So meanwhile before I left, one of my colleagues brought me a "hurry-cane" -- I really thought a cane is better for me than crutches. So then what to do about the crutches? He said maybe the company wants them, and asked and they decided they could use a pair of crutches at the company so I'm glad they will be put to use if necessary, the crutches are not my burden anymore and I have a great cane. I like the cane because it also gives people a visual clue so they open doors for me, etc. And it folds up into a carrying case. Oh dear, I'm excited about my new cane.
During the drive I sort of did this scan of physical, mental, emotional me and the only blip was a sense of fear. I couldn't see my toe well and when I got a glimpse of it, it looked like blood had come through and I could feel moisture in the shoe so of course I catastrophize and picture this soaking wet bandage in a bloody shoe.
When I got to a rest stop, and swung my leg out, of course the bandage is pure white, not a drop of blood in sight and the moisture I felt was my bare foot against the rubber of the shoe. I was thinking of that 12-step notion that FEAR stands for "false evidence appearing real" -- as hokey as that is, it is what fear is.
Anyway, my only challenge was getting in the door to my hotel room. I have stopped at this place before and you park right in front of your room. I even backed in so it couldn't have been closer. There is no curb, but it's a higher-than-usual step into the room from the outside door. So I'm pulling myself on the door frame to make the step up, and I did it.
When I checked in, I asked if they had any places which delivered and she gave me a bunch of menus so I'm leaning toward Chinese since I am thinking soup would be good.
Tomorrow it's onward to Allentown, PA.