The short list includes canes, crutches, claws, sock pull-ups, a commode, and my personal favorite.....the ice machine. Suffice it to say that under any analysis, I feel that I've had enough of these items to last a lifetime.
That's why I couldn't be more disappointed to discover that the nagging softball injury I suffered on artificial turf was not, as I had suspected, a sprained foot. I went through the perfunctory X-ray (inconclusive) and MRI (made much better by the satellite radio station that was pumping through the headphones). But had to wait about 3 days to find out what I had. So, I started rationalizing all the possibilities.
It could be a break, a fracture, a torn tendon, a torn ligament, or the latest trendy injury with the extremely lame moniker, "turf toe." I waited a day for the results, only to find that I had none of these. I did, however, have a torn joint capsule.
What the hell was that? I know that "torn" is never particularly good, and neither is any injury to the joint. It was the "capsule" that was throwing me. Without getting into the rudiments of basic podiatry, this translated into a few key recovery items.
Rest, Immobility......and........THE BOOT. Not Das Boot. The dreaded foot boot.
Now, I have probably seen hundreds, no, maybe thousands of people in these large stabilization boots. And I'm in tune with the necessity for them. In fact, if you have a normal size foot, they almost look...cool.
The problem is, I'm a size 12. For shoes, skates, sandals, and sneakers, there really isn't a terribly noticeable difference from the norm. But put on a therapeutic boot, and you just grabbed a bullhorn, jumped onto a loudspeaker, hired a cheerleading squad,and broadcast in stereo to look down at this deformity.
When I went to the podiatrist to size it, they said that my toes protruded beyond the large size. (Who did they think they were fitting, "Shaq?") Therefore, the only comfortable option was an X-large. To put this into the proper perspective, the difference between the large an X-large was about 2 city blocks.
After I left the doctor, I began to walk down 7th avenue to test my theory. And sure enough, it was true. With a single step, I covered both 54th and 55th streets. When you work in the city, it takes a lot for people to notice you. They've seen everything. But I couldn't help noticing that as I made my approach down the street, people were taking cover like a tsunami was coming.
Back at the office, several co-workers were wondering if I was actually wearing a boot, or a cage you transport animals in. It was a valid question. Later that day, my kids caught sight of it for the first time and became caught between sympathy and hysterics. In case you were wondering, the hysterics won.
So, I'll be stuck with this boot for a full month which invariably will present itself with literally hours of comic relief. First, it will look great with a pinstripe suit. The perfect accessory. It will also be ideal for big client meetings, especially when I stand up. And I do worry about flying. If I check it, it'll be over the weight limit. If I wear it, there is a possibility that it will weigh the plane down. I probably can't get the emergency row either. Maybe I'll take the train.
If you do see me in the next month, please take the proper precautions. Tuck and roll, wear a helmet, and leave at least 5 car lengths between the two of us.
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