I Forgot How to Walk?

Tyson, Cubby, Julia, Tori, me and Staci, at Laguna Beach
Cubby, Luke, Sonja and Russ, at Laguna Beach
Julia, Jake, Tyson, Tori, and Staci, at Laguna Beach

On December 27, 2017, I had surgery to correct a hammer toe on my right foot. The specialist said that it would take at least six months for the full recovery from the surgery, but I thought I knew better. After the surgery I really believed that all would be back to normal in a couple of months. But things did not turn out that way. During the follow-up visit I was told that all went well as far as the surgery was concerned, and that the rest of the problem was in my head. My foot was still doing the weird curling of the toes, making me keep walking with a limp, and sometimes I heard a shuffle while walking. I made another appointment with the doctor, but this time I was forlorn. I still could not wear tennis shoes, or other thong-type sandals due to the massive amount of scar tissue, and any closed toed shoes caused pain. The doctor’s response was that I needed physical therapy to learn how to walk again. I felt insulted by his choice of words, but nonetheless I did follow-up with the therapy.

If you have ever been to a beauty school, where the students are in training, you sometimes you can’t really tell the difference between the teacher and the student until you get a really bad haircut. Well, the first physical therapy place was a like this, a bunch of young therapists in training.  After three sessions, I wanted nothing more to do with this. as the robotic millennials were overly friendly but incompetent. I canceled my appointment because I was going to the Holy Land, but in reality I had lost faith in physical therapy.

As life would have it, my foot continued to be my cross and complaining was a constant. I purchased a comfortable pair of lightweight shoes for the missionary trip, but this only caused further damage. Good Friday was one of the worst days because of the discomfort, and all the walking we did that on that day set me back to a pronounced limp.

My boyfriend shoes

I continued with my workout regiment wearing Mike’s sandals, I called them my boyfriend shoes. These shoes did not cause pain and I could fasten them securely with the Velcro.

Physical therapy sobriety walk to help with balance

Thinking that this was my lot in life, I pretty much surrendered to the problem. I was having other health issues with back pain, and made an appointment with my primary care physician. I brought up my foot problem, and he told me again that it was an issue of mind over matter thing. My interpretation from this advice was that this doctor thought I was creating this problem in my head. I was also advised to return to physical therapy.

Toe yoga, I got it down to a science!

Taking matters into my own hands, I decided to no longer return to the podiatrist who told me it was in my head,  and made an appointment with a foot surgeon. The meeting went well but the specialist said  “You forgot how to walk!” “So, are you saying it’s in my head?” I asked.  His response was “Yes.”

For three years I put off the surgery and was compensating for my injury, and my mind and body got accustomed to defective toe doing what seemed natural. So when the surgery came, I really had forgotten how to walk normally. All three doctors were right, so now I’m back in physical therapy. No students this time, just professionals, sports specialist, and this is finally working for me. I am doing toe yoga, along with a lot of other exercises, to improve my balance and to learn how to walk again with proper stability. Sometimes it feels as if I’m taking a sobriety test with the different types of walking exercises that are required.

We went to dinner at Las Brisas, in Laguna Beach, on Friday, with the Louisiana Crew. We walked down to the beach, and for the first time in years I felt like I was walking normally.

Hindsight shows that we pay a big price in putting off what needs to be done in a timely matter.

Proverbs 6:4-6 New King James Version (NKJV)

Give no sleep to your eyes,
Nor slumber to your eyelids.
Deliver yourself like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter,
And like a bird from the hand of the fowler.

In other words, don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today.

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The Killer Worm

My sister Jo and Sophie, and me

The last time I went to visit my sister in New Orleans. I wanted to go French Quarter to have coffee and beignets at Cafe Du Monde in the French Quarter, but NO! Jo refused to take me there. Instead she took me to a local outdoor cafe in New Orleans. As we were walking to the quaint cafe I noticed a lot of caterpillars crawling all over the sidewalk. I asked Jo, “What are all these worms?” Her reply was “Thems are mean caterpillars and if you get stung you could die.” Jo also told me to watch my purse because this was not a safe area. I had just returned from Jerusalem and was home for twelve hours before boarding a plane to New Orleans, so I still had my passport on me. I was uncomfortable with the situation and leaned against the wall, hanging on to my handbag so that it would not get snatched.

The killer caterpillar about ready to sting me
The actual caterpillar that stung me

We were to meet Tori, Jo’s son for lunch at twelve, so we left in plenty of time to allow for parking. As we were walking to Jo’s vehicle, my right hand started to throb, and pain was shooting through some of my fingers. I told Jo that I was not feeling well. Jo jokingly said, “Maybe you got stung by one of those caterpillars!” I really did not understand what was going on, and thought maybe I was having some type of mini- stroke. We get in my sister’s Hummer with her granddaughter Sophie in the backseat, and the pain became more intense. I am a bit of drama, and I really wanted to know why all of a sudden this pain came about. In the meantime, Jo found a really good parking spot, when all of a sudden both of my legs started to feel the same pain as my fingers, throbbing, burning, and at this point I just thought that I could be having a mild heart attack. I grabbed for my purse and a huge venomous caterpillar was stuck to on the handbag. I had never screamed so loud in my life. I tried to fling the caterpillar off but,  it latched on to my already injured hand.  I yelled at the top of my lungs, “The worm! The Worm!” I did everything possible to removes the aggressive creature, and my body was  moving wildly and out of control. “The Worm! The Worm! it’s biting me!” Jo’s sweet four-year-old granddaughter was crying from all the commotion. Before Jo could park, she yelled for me to get out of the car. I jumped out dazed and in shock. In front of another sidewalk cafe sat a man and his wife enjoying an early lunch when I approached him with my wild story. At that point I had no idea where the killer worm was and I was not going to go back into that vehicle until I saw its spiny body with my own two eyes. The poor man came to the vehicle and used a napkin to remove the disgusting, crawling critter.

My inner knees were on fire from the stings of the beast and I was shaking, almost to the point of passing out. Tori showed up and Jo told him what happened. Tori left  to purchase some Benadryl for me. We sat at the beautiful table with white linens, and the waiter came to ask for our drink order, but I could not speak because of the pain.  Jo told the waiter about the incident, and the waiter shared a story about his daughter who was recently hospitalized because of injuries caused by same kind of caterpillar. Of course this story validated my fear. Though it was an upscale restaurant, I did not enjoy my meal because for all I knew, it could have been my last one.

I picked up some type of virus either in the Holy Land or in New Orleans, so when I returned from New Orleans, I was bedridden. Mike was sure it was the poisonous toxins injected by the caterpillar, but I was too weak to think about it. I did remember that we took several pictures the day of the incident, so  I grabbed for my phone and swiped across the photos. I came to one picture, and using my index finger and thumb, I enlarged it, there, plain as day, was corpulent caterpillar.

If my sister had taken me to get coffee and beignets in French Quarter, the incident with the caterpillar would not have happened.

Isaiah 33:4 New King James Version (NKJV)

And Your plunder shall be gathered
Like the gathering of the caterpillar;
As the running to and fro of locusts,
He shall run upon them.

 

 

 

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The Cajun Invasion

Sophie, Lucas, Jacob, Wil, Harris, Maya, Frankie, Reina, Nick, Michele, Russ, Sonja, Mikos, Jenny, Mike, Maddie, Me, Jo,Lindy, Mike, Ronda, Lee, Rong, Nick U., Nadia and Michael

They were eight coming in from the  New Orleans area. A direct flight from Louis Armstrong Airport  to LAX, with a pit stop at In-N-Out hamburgers, brought them to our doorstep at 2:00 A.M. My sister Jo was staying with us and her two sons and their families were staying a stone’s throw away from Disneyland.

Day One:  They wanted to go to Hollywood to take in the sights, but I informed them that it was Gay Pride Week, and the traffic would be a great deterrent. Then they wanted to go visit where my mother once lived, but their cousin  Sonja told them that that would be too dangerous. Sonja used kind, loving words, “I would never take my children there for fear of their lives.” Our son Mikos came in and piled more fear about the dangers in the City of Angels. Our son-in-law Russ heard that they wanted to attend a game at Dodger Stadium, and warned them that they could be stabbed. So on the first day, they stayed within the compound of the Marriott Hotel and hung out by the pool. My sister Jo kept mentioning to me that all we were doing was discouraging all their plans. Later, I will share a story with what they put me through when I visit them.

Michele and Sophie
Sophie, Harris, and Frankie

Day Two: They wanted to go to the beach but the riptides and waves were too dangerous for swimming in the ocean. The Dodgers were in town playing the Atlanta Braves, so they went to the game. The last time that Frank was at a Dodger game Fernando Valenzuela was pitching. These brave Southerners stayed the entire game. We usually leave after the third inning or after eating a Dodger Dog.

Jo, Mike, Frank, Rong, Me, Nick U., and Nick T.
Jenny, Lee, Ronda, Sonja and Lindy
The diving contest, Nick T.
Drying towels the old fashioned way

Day Three: Frank and Nick, my nephews, are getting married in Las Vegas this June 15, so we planned a family barbecue. It was a perfect day for a family gathering, and my brother Mike and two of his sons and their families joined us for the gathering; we were a total of 27. Mike made his famous Cherry Cola Ribs and hamburgers. We shared many stories and made wonderful memories, while all of the kids swam. Every last one of the beach towels was put to use, then we discovered that our clothes dryer was on the brink.

Day Four: Universal Studios, I cannot express how I loathe the crowds, and waiting in long lines. I am not a Disney fan either, so Jo and I stayed behind.

My sister is the same way when I visit her, as she never wants to do anything touristy and refuses to take me to the French Quarter.

We are like cats when visiting each other, taking many naps in between our ventures. All of us three sisters, Norma included, share another thing in common; we care for our grandchildren and many times our schedules revolve around their timetable. In reality, that is what family is about, right?

On Thursday, round two with more Cajun’s arriving.

“And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.” ~1 John 4:21

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