2023 52 Card Project: Week 27: Grounded
Jul. 7th, 2023 11:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrThis is embarrassing to admit:
I broke a toe this week.
I've never broken a bone before, but I managed to snap this one (second toe on the left foot) bringing laundry up from the basement. I couldn't see the steps because of the laundry basket I was carrying, and I didn't raise my foot up quite enough and...ouch!
I'm embarrassed about this because it is yet another data point in my ongoing campaign to apparently prove to everyone that I cannot walk like a normal person. I've had, what, four or five falls in the past several years. I didn't talk about the last one (again, embarrassed) but I managed to clobber myself when I was out buying a pride flag. Stumbled over a speed bump in a crumbling, decrepit parking lot and landed on my shoulder and forehead. The shoulder took the brunt of it so I didn't get another concussion, but still, ow.
I've been thinking about my trouble walking. Is this a normal part of aging, or am I just clumsy, or is there something going on with my walk that needs to be addressed? I didn't bother to go to the emergency room because of the toe (a clean break, and I know that they can't do much more than tape it, which I've done), but I'll be talking with my doctor today--should I perhaps see a physical therapist to get my gait evaluated? What on earth is going on?
Walking on a broken toe reminds me of something I learned many years ago when I had foot surgery: you use your toes a LOT to walk. And thinking of walking, of being rooted, of being grounded, reminded me of a poem I wrote back in 2008 when I found an acorn wedged in a hole in my shoe:
I wrote:
Image description: Background: a large tree in the forest with exposed roots (pointillism filter over the photo). Hovering over the roots, center, is an injured foot with tape over the first and second toe and a bruised surface. Superimposed over the foot is a germinating seed. Above the foot, top center, is the sole of a black sandal. An acorn is wedged in a hole of the sole.
Grounded
Click here to see the 2023 52 Card Project gallery.
Click here to see the 2022 52 Card Project gallery.
Click here to see the 2021 52 Card Project gallery.
I broke a toe this week.
I've never broken a bone before, but I managed to snap this one (second toe on the left foot) bringing laundry up from the basement. I couldn't see the steps because of the laundry basket I was carrying, and I didn't raise my foot up quite enough and...ouch!
I'm embarrassed about this because it is yet another data point in my ongoing campaign to apparently prove to everyone that I cannot walk like a normal person. I've had, what, four or five falls in the past several years. I didn't talk about the last one (again, embarrassed) but I managed to clobber myself when I was out buying a pride flag. Stumbled over a speed bump in a crumbling, decrepit parking lot and landed on my shoulder and forehead. The shoulder took the brunt of it so I didn't get another concussion, but still, ow.
I've been thinking about my trouble walking. Is this a normal part of aging, or am I just clumsy, or is there something going on with my walk that needs to be addressed? I didn't bother to go to the emergency room because of the toe (a clean break, and I know that they can't do much more than tape it, which I've done), but I'll be talking with my doctor today--should I perhaps see a physical therapist to get my gait evaluated? What on earth is going on?
Walking on a broken toe reminds me of something I learned many years ago when I had foot surgery: you use your toes a LOT to walk. And thinking of walking, of being rooted, of being grounded, reminded me of a poem I wrote back in 2008 when I found an acorn wedged in a hole in my shoe:
I wrote:
the holy tree grows hidden within the heartAll these thoughts came together to make this card. I did not use the most unpleasant picture of the foot I have (behind the tape, the toe is grossly technicolor) to spare your sensibilities.
the seed lies nestled in secret within the shoe
a reminder of the earth beneath me
the yogi says, while doing Tree Pose,
find your balance
and if at first you start to sway, don't give up
trees sway
get more grounded
I turn my shabby sandal over in my hand
place it on the floor
and slip it over my foot
my walking root
I stride away, swaying,
tree in my heart
toes spread wide
seed in my shoe kissing the earth with every step
Image description: Background: a large tree in the forest with exposed roots (pointillism filter over the photo). Hovering over the roots, center, is an injured foot with tape over the first and second toe and a bruised surface. Superimposed over the foot is a germinating seed. Above the foot, top center, is the sole of a black sandal. An acorn is wedged in a hole of the sole.
Click here to see the 2023 52 Card Project gallery.
Click here to see the 2022 52 Card Project gallery.
Click here to see the 2021 52 Card Project gallery.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-07-07 06:53 pm (UTC)I just had a checkup, and I'm at the age where I'm asked both in preliminary online forms and by both the physician's assistant and my doctor in person whether I've had any falls recently. You're younger, but I hope they will take you seriously.
P.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-07-07 07:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-07-08 03:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-07-08 06:42 am (UTC)P.