This is day 19 of my unexpected incarceration for a crime I committed in the 1970s and 80s.
I long for the “outside” as much as any hardened criminal. My crime? The serial wearing of stilettos for two decades which turned my left foot into the shape of Peter Pan’s.
So surgery was the only option if I’m not to live out my life in a wheel chair. I was sentenced to one month of no walking, no driving, no dancing, no gardening and no sugar since I had removed it from my home and have no way to replenish my supply (thank heavens).
I committed to no sugar, no processed food, no meat (except seafood for the month. Netflix are my only guilty pleasure now that my new book “Aging Fearlessly” has been sent to editor.
In addition to improving my health I have had ample time to think about how I wont to live the rest of my life. Oh, and I have learned a little patience of which I had NONE, Nada. Here are a few things that have helped:
These things have helped but the stress and frustration return without warning like when the back wheel of my tricycle catches up on a piece of furniture and I drag it 20 feet wondering why the ride has become to difficult. As I try to dislodge the darn thing, I scream obscenities while Rebel and Lucky Dawg run for the hills thinking they have done something awful. The cat, who has been named Scaredy Cat, has been gone for 18 hours.
Why didn’t someone tell me thirty years ago that wearing high heels would cause so much angst in my advanced years. I would have probably done it anyway, so now I’m paying the price.
Oh, and Dr. Altmeyer says I’ll be wearing cute shoes again by Christmas! Wonder how “high” I can go?