My Right Foot or Color in Motion

Here is an art project for today.  Take a 4 x 6 inch piece of watercolor paper and cover it with a light reddish-orange wash--sort of iodine color. Now get the paper fairly wet and make a three inch wide diagonal swatch from right to left of reddish-purple, letting it grow to 5 inches in places if it is so inclined. Add various splotches of dark blue along the diagonal swatch. While this is still wet and blending, paint a half inch wide line of a deep purplish black down the middle of your diagonal colors. Let the colors bleed together, then let it dry.  When completely dry, paint a fine black line down the middle of the deep purple color.

Now, if I were to name the resulting painting on looks only, I would probably call it "Violence" or "Color in Motion".  In reality, I will name it, "My Right Foot".  That is what my foot looks like following my surgery on Friday.  The incision to remove a fatty tumor runs from my "this little piggy cried wee-wee-wee all the way home" toe toward my heel and turns north just before my ankle and continues northward for a couple inches. Because of the huge amount of trauma to my poor little foot, the bruising is very colorful indeed.

So here I now lie, flat on my back with my foot encased in a heavy boot and propped up on a pile of pillows. It has been five days now and will be several more days. I'm on a bed in my son's living room so I can be part of the action. A puzzle book, baggie of cherry tomatoes, empty plate that held a hard boiled egg, and bottle of pain pills (which I have not needed for over 24 hours) clutter a table to my left. A spy novel, laptop mouse, bell, glass of ice water, and cell phone are on a table to my right. A lazy kitty is peacefully sleeping at my right side. On my left side is a baggie of wonderful purple grapes that is getting emptier by the minute. In the midst of all this I am trying to type. It doesn't work very well, especially while lying down.

I'm not sure what I would have done without family to help me out this first week. I had no idea I would  neither be allowed nor have any desire to be up and around. Not only were my doctor's instructions adamant and clear, but so also were the reports from my foot itself. "Keep me elevated, keep me elevated" it keeps muttering all day long.  It never yells or screams.  It just complains.

I can't complain, though. First off, my daughter took a day off school to accompany me to the Surgical Center for the operation. That meant making arrangements for a substitute teacher, making lessons plans for the whole day even though she wouldn't be in the classroom, and driving over an hour to get us to the Surgical Center. Then, my daughter-in-law picked me up following surgery to take me to their home for the week--an hour drive for her. Now she is playing nursemaid, bringing me food, filling my water glass, helping me readjust my boot, and just visiting with me.

I am so blessed.

Now I pray that I heal fast enough to go home this weekend. By then I shouldn't have to keep my foot propped up the required 6 inches, just not dangling on the floor.  I should also be able to at least stand in the kitchen long enough to scramble an egg or make a sandwich. As it is now, I can only hobble down the hall to the bathroom and back. Oh well.  Even though my foot might complain, I am not going to.

So there you have it, my saga since my last blog. And now, my friends, my grapes are gone, my water glass is half-full, the cat is awake, and I have to hobble down the hall...

Have a God day and look for his blessings.  I will.