Bruised and Battered But Not Defeated

This is how I almost had to finish my Christmas shopping. Riding in a Target scooter.

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Guess you could say I'm clumsy or scatterbrained or trying to do too much at once. Yesterday, I had plans to go to lunch with some girlfriends (it was a makeup date from last week) and then to finish a few Christmas errands. In anticipation of one errand, I'd put a package on the steps out to the garage. It was a return I needed to make that I didn't want others to see (if you know what I mean).

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Fast forward to the time I'm suppose to leave for the lunch. I'm chatting with M about their plans to have lunch with Nana. I forget all about the package. I trip over the package, fall into the shelves filled with pop bottles, juice bottles and paint cans. A small little paint can falls on the top of my right foot. I hear it, feel it, and scream because in the garage is my brand new car too.

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The car is spared. Me, not so much.

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Everyone runs to the garage to see what all the clatter was about (kinda like Santa) and I realize that I'm not bleeding or breaking, just crushed in spirit and a little shaken up. But my foot is killing me. Throbbing. I slip off my nice black shoes and grab some ballet flats with room for my foot to expand and leave.
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When I arrive at lunch, I have to leave the comfort of my car. Walk. I look like I am 89 years old. I hobble to my friends waiting for me. By now, there is a big goose egg on my foot. My knee is throbbing from a gash on it and I feel like I've been run over by a bus.

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The waitress brings me an ice bag and a chair to pop up my leg. Thank goodness I wore pants.

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We have a blast at lunch. I don't even think about the pain. Until we leave and I must again walk.

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Remember those Christmas Errands. I make a few phone calls, eliminate a few of them by talking to store clerks and finding out what they have that I need. Make one stop and pray for a close parking place. One more stop and cry a little walking from the car. The man at Customer Service says maybe I should get a motorized cart, the checkout lady says she has a good podiatrist. I just smile.

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Check off some of the "to do" list even though it's not done. Drive by my husband's office to have him look it over. My dad, who used to be a Claim Adjuster which I am told is just like a doctor, offered his opinion. Family joke. They say I will live. Not so sure.

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Hours on the couch with legged propped up. Take out pizza for dinner. Caring family and kids.

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Today it's better. Ugly. Huge Knot. Less Pain, but more swelling. Take it slow.

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Errand/Rest/Errand/Rest and repeat. House needs cleaning, laundry needs done but at least I'm done with the shopping.

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I made it through Target without the scooter today, but it was nice to know it was there if needed. Now, I just got to wrap the gifts and make the food. I can do that sitting down with my foot in the air.

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Just call me graceful. Grateful too. I could be wearing one of those ugly boots. Think the black ballet flats will be better looking, just colder!