So far, my 55th year on this planet has been a roller coaster. In the last 16 days, I have…
- burned my arm during an emergency oil change on my lawnmower
- had my first physical in over 6 years confirm that I am in great health
- been informed by my dentist that I needed a root canal
- stumbled onto a great deal on a tree and some shrubs for our house
- been unable to plant said items because I couldn’t get out of bed!
- been master of ceremonies for our Sunday service
- and been pulled over for driving 36 in a 25 MPH zone!
So you can understand if I have a blank look on my face when someone asks me, “How’s it going?”
When I got home from work yesterday, I was cautiously optimistic that we were actually going to get our plants in the ground.
I had managed to convince/persuade/cajole/command my wife to help me. We bought a bag of soil amendment and got some last minute tips on successful planting at the nursery.
When we returned home, I grabbed the shovel and carefully finished digging the hole for the maple tree that I had started on Thursday night.
The next step was preparing the soil. Now, in my mind, mixing 2/3 soil with 1/3 compost is kind of like mixing ingredients in the kitchen. And my wife is REALLY good at that. And I am not. So, although I didn’t say it quite like that, my wife bought my sales pitch and agreed to do that part.
I grabbed the bag of compost from the bed of our truck, brought it over, tossed it on the ground, grabbed my utility knife, squatted down and cut the end of the bag open.
The story then takes an almost unbelievable twist at this juncture (pun not intended at all!!!!!!!)
When I went to stand up and take a step back, the bottom of my leg twisted one way and the top twisted in the other. I grabbed my knee and fell to the ground like a freshly cut tree!
As I was writhing in pain in my front yard, I started saying,”No! No, no, no! I refuse this!”
I managed to lift myself into an upright position. I tried walking it off while my wife mixed the soil.
After we finally got the tree into the ground, my wife suggested that I stop and go inside.
But I was not finished…
I grabbed the shovel and said, “The pioneers wouldn’t have stopped” and started digging the next hole with my right leg.
By the time I started the third hole, my knee was trying to move in directions that it was not designed to move. It occurred to me that many of the pioneers probably spent the rest of their life walking with a limp.
As we got ready for bed, my wife made a splint out of one tightly rolled towel running down the inside of my leg secured by a second towel wrapped around my leg.
As I swung my leg into the bed, I laughed out loud at my pitiful condition. How was I going to get out of bed in the morning? I can’t bend my leg…but what if my back locks up? I can’t do my usual stretching exercises.
Well, the good news is that I did make it out of bed. By the afternoon, we had found a full length knee brace on Craig’s List for $25 and a friend loaned me a set of crutches.
But for the second consecutive weekend, I am completely immobilized!
