Yes, I know. I need a pedicure. I shouldn't wear torn shorts in public. You are tired of hearing the tale of my right foot.
Did I cover everything? I thought a little preemptive strike might whet your appetites.
Or maybe I am just being defensive.
Either way, what you have here is a self-portrait of Steve Cotton standing on his own two feet. You will have to take my word that I stopped in full stride to get the shot.
And I could have taken the photograph any day since Monday. When we returned from Spokane, I decided it was time to give up the crutch I was using as a cane.
And then I took the extra step (or steps) to walk over to the hospital last night to the Coumadin clinic. We're not talking Lawton Chiles walks here. It was just a few blocks. But I was able to walk without much difficulty.
Today I went to Costco with my Mom before I took her out to dinner. Just a week ago that would have been a major adventure on my crutches.
Am I healed? Hardly. I still have no subtle motion in my ankle -- making me as prone to falls as a professional tort filer.
But I can get around. Before long I hope to have enough strength in my right foot to drive. But not today.
I have one more physical therapy appointment -- on Monday. Then I will be on my own to do exercises.
If all goes well, I am going to the Portland Zoo on Saturday. Because our summer weather has finally arrived.
And this may be the last medical bulletin on my foot -- at least, for a while.
And, no, Laurie, I am not getting a pedicure.
