Tag Archives: healing

Collecting Crocks

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That’s Limey the lime tree on the right. Limey has spent the winter indoors next to a very sunny window. We’ll move Limey outside for the summer as soon as we’re sure the temperatures will stay well above freezing. In addition, I believe Limey needs a bigger pot. I have a 6 gallon crock in the garage that will allow room for drainage (broken crockery, big sticks, whatever I have around the yard) and still give Limey room to grow.

The other 5 gallon crock has drainage in the base (broken dishes pulled from my rock garden) and potting soil. This crock will house cherry tomatoes or jalapeno peppers.

I have a third 5 gallon crock that I’ll prep later today – after the Brewers send Craig Counsell a clear message that hey, Milwaukee is still the best place for baseball. If you haven’t guessed, Brewers and Cubs are starting a three game weekend series in the Windy City.

Foot status: I can handle small amounts of yard work like filling the crocks, but I’m still not very strong. I’ll build up what strength I can between now and the next surgery, and I’ll get as much of the garden planted as possible, too. Coping, it’s all about coping.

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Starting Over Again

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I’m starting over and looking at six weeks of healing for the right foot. Lots of resting and elevating, reading books, icing once every hour (at least for a few days) and just general bump on a log activity. Like, no activity.

Back story: on February 1, I had surgery to repair a bunion and two tiny hammertoes on my right foot. The second and third toes, tiny as they are, healed beautifully. Getting the pins pulled out wasn’t pretty, but neither was it awful. Those toes look great now.

The big toe, however, encountered a problem. I tripped. I wasn’t wearing my boot, and I stubbed my toe. Stubbed it hard. Yes, folks, it hurt, enough so that I may have let loose a few four letter words. I was loud enough that Chuck came running across the house to ask, “Are you okay? What happened?” I sniffled and told him I’d bumped my toe. Sniff. Sob.

Move the calendar ahead a few days to my follow-up appointment and the removal of the pins. The doctor came in the room, took one look at the big toe, and almost shouted, “What happened?! This toe was perfectly straight the last time I saw you!” I sheepishly explained what had happened as she examined the crooked toe that by now was at a 45 degree angle from the foot. She immediately scheduled me for repair surgery.

I told you she scheduled me immediately, right? I saw her in the office on Monday, and I found myself in the surgical center three days later, on Thursday. Surgeon (let’s call her Dr. Toes) put the bone back in place and repaired the soft tissue, ligaments and tendons, around the toe.

And here I am, once again, sitting on the couch. There’s a basket on the end table with almost anything I could need: hearing aid batteries, lip balm, lotion, my medicines, hair scrunchies, and more. I’m watching a marathon of Homestead Rescue and reading a book on my Kindle. I have the Harry Potter series next to me, too, ready for a reread.

Readers, do you have any recommendations? Books I should read while I’m resting and healing? I’ll find them on Paperback Swap or download them to my Kindle. Thanks for your help during this long healing process!

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My Garden Misses Me.

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Chuck, dear sweet husband that he is, came in the other day and told me, “Your garden misses you.”

Back story: I’m recovering from surgery to straighten a big toe. Bunionectomy, it’s called. The stitches came out two days ago, and now I can focus on letting the bone heal. I’ll see the doctor again in a month. Until then, I’m stuck wearing the Incredible Protective Boot, a.k.a. Stupid Boot.

Back to the garden conversation. I only planted half of the garden last May because I knew I wouldn’t be able to work it very much. Chuck said, bravely, “I’ll plant the rest.” And he did.

He might not have realized at the time that he’d also be responsible for maintaining “my” sections as well. When he told me the garden missed me, he mentioned long branches on the tomato plants that I would certainly have tied up or guided into the spiral tomato supports. There are weeds, too. I put down barriers of corrugated cardboard and shredded paper, but a few brave stalks have found ways to sneak in. The clover, for example, stands almost as tall as the dill. A few dill plants are approaching sunflower height.

I cut him some slack in the watering task. He’s using a sprinkler to water the main patch, and using the rain barrel water to water container like the citronella and lemongrass.

I stood outside the chicken wire yesterday and threaded some tomatoes through the supports or through other branches for support. My garden misses me, and I miss it, too. Meanwhile, I’ll sit outside on the deck and watch it grow while my foot heals.

 

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