I'm walking again

The salient characteristic of all canes: they fall on the floor. Repeatedly.

Steve can tell where I am in the house at any given time by the clatter of the cane, falling yet again. Fortunately, my injuries are such that I have no trouble bending down and picking up the cane.

The cane belongs to my mother, who has several. It is decorated with exotic symbols such as a compass rose, Mayan calendar and various flags and banners. I've seen it in my mother's hands many times, and I feel a special bond with my mother when I'm using it.

My mother sent me flowers, with the note, "I know you are trying to save the atmosphere by riding a bike, but first take care of my little girl till she is well. Can I help? Love, Mama."

(Said "little girl" being 61 years old.)

Yes, Mama, you can lend me one of your canes.

For the first few days after the accident, I could walk okay. Then it got harder and harder. Since my last post about it, I've had more X-rays and found that I have a broken collarbone and a small fracture in my pelvis. I suspect a couple more cracks in areas that were not X-rayed: my upper left arm and right thigh.

Five days after the accident, I could not walk at all. That's when I started getting around the house on my office chair, propelled--backwards--by my one good limb. Here I am, getting a cup of coffee. Fortunately, I could stand up with no trouble, because reaching above mid-chest height with either hand was a chore I could not manage.

But I'm getting better. I've gradually added skills: getting in and out of bed without excruciating pain, taking a shower by myself and then drying myself off, cleaning out the cat box, doing laundry, washing dishes, watering the garden. All these chores had devolved to my dear Steve, with some help from my daughter.

A week ago I started driving again.

Yesterday I overdid it. We went to some garage sales and the farmers market and picked up various heavy things, with which I put more strain than I should have on my collarbone. I did too much walking. Today I will pay the price. Thank goodness that ibuprofen now covers the pain, so I'm out from under the befuddling narcotics.

I'll need to get lots of rest today, because tomorrow I'm off to Sacramento to lobby for publicly funded elections, to get the special interest money out of California politics. A long shot, since most politicians are not sure they want to get that money out of politics even if it means they can work for the voters instead of the banking industry, the pharmaceutical industry, the prison industry, the oil industry, big unions, and on and on. Name your pet special interest.

It will involve a lot of walking down crowded corridors, not to mention from a distant parking garage. Wish me luck.