Jeff commissioned a painting.. A simple baseball field with 2 rainbows and a scoreboard showing the Carter’s Red Sox Championship win. He’s so proud. A day they’ll always remember. I call it “Believe!” My pay: 20 containers of yogurt. The picture is already hanging in his den and I have been paid in full…maybe. (see 5/14/15 Rainbows story below)
He’ll be paying me back for a while. He already brought me a bagel brunch and corned beef hash. He went upstairs to turn off the a/c, which wasn’t turned off when the kids left. He filled the dogs’ water bowls. Today I was at his house for dinner. “Why?” you ask. Well, last week I attended my friend’s daughter’s dance recital. The area surrounding the parking lot was very poorly lit. I was busy talking and looking for my car and didn’t see a speed bump that had lost its highlighting paint years ago. I tripped and flipped over like a penguin tired of waddling and deciding to slide. I hit my hand, broke a nail, cut my knee, and bumped head, which sent my glasses flying. Two gentlemen rushed over and asked if I needed help. My knee felt so bad, I didn’t know if I could stand. Two seconds later I was up and they walked me to my car. I felt comfortable enough to drive home, and made it safely. Twenty minutes later, when I tried to get out of the car, I realized I was hurt more than I had thought. Having had broken ribs when I was 21, I knew exactly what was wrong. Didn’t feel like sitting for hours in the ER and then being told there was nothing they could do. So, I called Jeff and told him I was going to bed, but I needed checking up on. Surprise! When I saw my Dr. he said there was nothing to be done. I was told to take it easy for 6 weeks and I’d feel better. Head and hand fine. Knee getting better. Ribs…one week down, an 5 to go. Oddly, not one bruise. Hence, time to create Jeff’s painting, and the big payback.
Not being able to bend is tough. It’s especially hard getting into and out of bed. I’ve tried many techniques, but it’s still painful. Sitting/getting off chairs, and using the bathroom is also rough, but I manage. I found my mother’s grabber tool. You know, the thing that helps get things off high shelves.It used to be found in grocery stores. Well, I can use that to pick up the dogs’ food bowls, and things that are on the floor. Still, there are things I haven’t figured out yet, and must ask for help: filling the dogs’ water containers; picking up their poop; lifting groceries – more than a couple at a time; etc. Necessity may be the mother of invention. I say, “Call Jeff!”
I know I’ll be fine…in time. At this moment, patience is what I’m lacking. I’m waiting for the day I can look back at this and laugh. Right now, it hurts too much when I do.