Wednesday, July 27, 2005
My Big Stupid Feet... ( or how I broke a bone in my left foot on Sunday)
I'd hoped to talk about this later in the week after I saw the orthopedic doctor guy, but one of my dear readers dragged it out of me...
It was Sunday, a day of rest for most Americans. My beautiful and talented (or "b-alented") wife and I returned from our week away in Maine. We saw her mother, most of her brothers, and all of their kids. I ate a lot of Lobster Rolls and Blueberry Pie. I bought vintage paper back books that included a lot of movie and television novelizations ("Sergeants Three", "The Avengers", "I Spy", "Columbo") and vintage paperback books that movies are based on (1st editions of "The Man With The Golden Gun" and "Breakfast At Tiffany's"). And I was the cool uncle for the nieces and nephews.
I don't feel it necessary to give any stories to explain that last bit.
So, we get back, and I'm unloading suitcases from the truck, when my left foot turns under me the wrong way and I fall on it. I end up, after going to the emergency room at INOVA (or Fairfax) Hospital where when you are fast tracked you wait an extra two hours, being diagnosed as having broken a small bone above my little toe on my left foot. The doctor, who looked like a young James Lipton ("Isn't he the host of "Inside The Actors' Studio?" you query... "Ahhh, very good, Grasshopper" I shoot back), told me that the injury is a very common one, for dancers.
Which isn't that funny. I always dance when I carry heavy boxes, suitcases, or packages.
Because I studied at the "Bob Fosse Institute Of Movers".
Hopefully, I will be more mobile (aka "off crutches") in a week or so. Until then, I will be the Tiny Tim of my local Starbucks where I work.