I came to work limping more than I have since I got the cortisone shot. Either my memory isn’t serving me correctly (a very distinct possibility) or it is taking longer to get to the part where, as the doc said, “it’ll hurt more for a few days and then start feeling lots better.”
I’d worked over the weekend and the Farm’s policy is that they want me to take days off to compensate…and the sooner, the better. I wasn’t planning on taking it off, but after limping around for an hour, I waited for my Monday help, Mitch, and laid out all I wanted him to do that day. Before I could get out the door though, the typical happened.
“John…there’s a hydrant leaking over by Dodge’s stall and the volunteers are getting wet when they use it,” one of the horse handlers explained.
“Have them stand off to the side and the spray will miss them,” I suggested. She didn’t smile.
I told Mitch how to fix the issue and climbed in the Camry. I’d missed both weekend opportunities to have breakfast at Kleifeld’s because of work and decided it was time. I called my sister and told her I’d be there in thirty minutes.
After a good ham and cheese omelet and six cups of coffee, I drove home and spent the rest of the day nursing my foot. I did organize my camping gear, but essentially figured either I would give the heel the rest it required or I wouldn’t be doing any hiking. At the very least though, I’d camp near a mountain stream, bring along my journal to write, a book to read and my camera to catch some of the magnificent scenery and just relax.
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