I’m in prison. Even the duvet cover on my bed is black and white stripes. My room is on the first floor (2nd floor American) as is the bathroom. I was offered a room on the ground floor but with all my clothes and electronics up here along with the bathroom, I opted for the first floor. The stairs are difficult to navigate when you are able bodied. They have no railing, are open to the floor below on my right side as I ascend and covered with a runner that is in no way anchored to the steps. I manage to navigate the steps once a day with a lot of assistance. I cannot stand for any long periods of time–I have to keep the weight off the foot as there is a fissure in the other ankle bone which could break with too much weight on it and then I would definitely need surgery. That also means no work, nor bus rides. Definitely minimal walking. Since everything around here requires a bus ride and a walk, I’m housebound. I could take a taxi, but to where? Shopping is not an option–it involves walking. To top all of that off, Nazifete wants to continually try home remedies on me. “Let me rub margarine on your leg to cure the bruises”, or “let me put onions on your legs to make them better”, or “wear this compression sock, it will make your bones all better”. Grrr. I don’t want to smell like dinner and that damned sock is cutting off my circulation. And, of course, she checks to see if I have it on and when I don’t she wants to know why. “Because it hurts, dammit!” Last night as I was lying in bed, she brought me a piece of birthday cake and decided to check my foot. I was ready to punch her! So frustrating to be so helpless! I’ve tried telling her to not do it, but she does it and then just laughs.
I have no idea when I will be released from my “rest and rehab” status. Washington DC has not responded to the treatment plan. They did say, however, I didn’t need to have the daily anti-coagulant shot that the local specialist wanted me to give to myself. (Obviously he doesn’t know me very well as there is no way in hell I could give myself or anyone else a shot!) In the meantime, I have missed the warden training and will miss the farewell for our country director tomorrow. I have a camp meeting on Wednesday and then our FF (foxes over fifty) group was going to take our Country Director out to dinner and the ballet. I might be able to make the camp meeting but am not sure about the rest of it. It will require some walking on uneven surfaces. So my gut instinct is that I will miss that as well. There is even the possibility that I will have to be on crutches for my trip to Rome! That will make me very unhappy.
So to keep busy, I am working on my stamp collection. I must have a thousand stamps of Francisco Franco and Juan Carlos. I’m weeding through them and keeping only the best. I will give the rest of them to some budding stamp collector. In the meantime it is once again time for some beans. Thank goodness for salsa! Now if I could only have a margarita or a bottle of wine!
And this was an exercise in catharsis! I feel better and less pitiful now.