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Whole New Outlook

So now on day two of limited mobility, I have not yet struck knitting nirvana.  The Tylenol 3 helps with pain but it also makes me sleepy/dopey, and knitting is just not yet very appealing.  In the meantime I have gotten an interesting new outlook about our home.

The swelling is down on the left foot, but it is still much bigger than the right.
Let me start by saying I really love our home here in British Columbia.  It is built on a mountain, overlooks beautiful Burrard Inlet, a body of salt water that is 13 kilometres (about 8 miles) from the ocean, making the inlet more a fjord than lake.  Our view is always good rain or shine, and I remain mesmerized by that view still after having spent 20 years of looking over the flat prairies of North Dakota.  The key characteristic in my current, barely mobile stage is we live on a mountain.  That means lots, and I mean lots of stairs.
Never knew 14 steps could cause so much anxiety.

Right now, a daunting view for me.

These are photographs of the stairs to get into the main living area from the garage.  The top photo is looking up towards the garage and the second is a view looking down.  There are a total of 14 steps that need to be navigated here; I know because I have now had ample time to count them.  (Before the incident, as it will continue to be called, I would not have been able to give you an exact number.) The little curve is another mini-trap when you're trying to navigate with crutches.  Add the very helpful Mike, the cat, to the scene and I'm sure if someone were videotaping my travels up or down, the tape would make some silly video show or YouTube.  Both the assent or descent are slow, filled with a certain amount of grunting/groaning, and if not so painful, I'm sure are very entertaining scenes indeed for others.   For me right now they seem something akin to climbing or descending Mt. Everest.

Last night Chris, a colleague of mine, was kind enough to bring me dinner against my protestations there was no need.  Lucky for Mike he did, because Mike's food bowl is down these steps and it was nearly empty.

To the lower level where Mike's paraphernalia lives 
Had Chris not mentioned it, Mike would have gone hungry.  Or knowing Mike, he would have bothered me enough to cause me to decide to slide down those stairs, feed him and then crawl back up.  Don't know if I'd have ventured that trek or not, and luckily I didn't have to decide.  Both Mike and I were grateful Chris was thinking clearly when he came to drop off the meal because he took care of feeding both of us at the same time.

So, I've developed a whole new outlook on my home.  It is wonderful except when you suffer from mobility problems.  Luckily I can for now, eat, sleep and entertain myself all on one floor.  Additionally I know the exact number of stairs that need to be climbed to get from point A to point B in my house.  It really shouldn't take two broken feet to figure that one out, except if you're me.

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