Feets hit floor. Weight hits feets. Butt hits bed. Mouth utters expressions unbecoming a gentleman.
Of course, stress relief is stress relief regardless of how it occurs, and you don't spend much time around me before you learn of that colorful vocabulary that I find necessary to express my reaction to a good bit of the nonsense that can fill my world.
Saturday, it felt like a pulled muscle that was engaged as toes pushed forward on a step.
Today, the well-remembered feeling of fractured metataursals came to mind as I took forever to fetch my coffee.
Not even the cane helped as I hobbled to the Shell station as the ancient beast I more become every day.
At least, I'm doing better than this bug.
Of course, I doubt that bug is ouching from traumatized feets, and that might make me jealous if I dwell on it.
So the question for today involves a visit to the doc. For as good as Kellie and Crystal can be, I'm pretty sure they have nothing to offer for sad feets, except maybe hydrocodone or Oxycontin, neither of which are going to be prescribed for this mess.
At the most, they'll prescribe an immobilization boot. That will do the trick, at least until it's time to drive. Last time on the right foot, the boot didn't see much action. Hot. Unwieldy. A pain to put off and on for driving.
A pair of combat boots might have to suffice.
Location:Westgrove St,Raleigh,United States