Square Peg ● Round Hole







There are those moments where you think you know how something is going to go. Maybe you have been through it before or, perhaps, you are very confident in your ability to adapt. Whatever the thought process, you might have experienced complete and utter shock that nothing is at it seems. Case in point, my foot surgery.

I had my left foot reconstructed three years ago. For those of you who aren’t structural stunted, flat feet are no joke. My feet were so flat, that my whole body suffered. There is this magical alignment that I was not given. When I decided that I needed to have the right foot done, I was delusional enough to think that it wouldn’t a big deal. I told myself that I had this, but the reality is this has been the worst recovery on the planet. I have been sick. I have been tired. Mostly, I am annoyed.

Saturday, we went to our son’s college for the Homecoming football game. There is a lot of planning and logistics that needed to be addressed so that this excursion would not kill me. Our seats are in the university’s club, so it’s contained. I contacted the woman in charge to see if there were any alternatives to our seating. We are pretty far down, so it would be a challenge on crutches. Nothing. The club was full, so I would need to pivot….again. Pivoting on one leg is interesting.

When we arrived, my main goal was to find my baby. Not really a baby at 23, but he will also be that to me. Isn’t that the typical mom lingo? We park and get me settled with the crutches. Bryce is across the street from where we parked. He is a GA with the college’s sports marketing department, so he was diligently working. I noticed my confidence waiver when I realized that across the street is one thing, but the journey to get their was pretty extensive. As I got closer, huffing and puffing like I am running a marathon, I noticed my youngest had a chair ready for me. I stopped periodically where Bailey and my saint of a husband, Brian, kept cheering me on with a “you can do this” mantra. If you have every done a mini-marathon, there is a moment when you are close to the finish line. Your energy is depleted and you are ready to be done. Unfortunately, the closer you get, the finish line seems to get farther away. That was my feeling as I moved toward the chair. I almost kissed said chair when I got there. That would have been weird, so i abstained.

We chatted with him for a bit and then headed to the stadium. Again, with two legs, this walk would be nothing, but crutches change that feeling. As we journeyed to the staduim, several people commiserated with me. My comments to all of them was, “this is a bitch”. Finally, we get to our destination and were told that they had a golf cart that will take us back to our car. Praise the good Lord, because I thought maybe the club looked good enough to complete my recovery. That is how bad this process was. Anyway, we decided to try to get me to our seats. Brian held my crutches. I imagine Bailey was holding his breath. Me? Well I was trying not to go to the ER. I managed with minimal issues and arrived safely in my glorious seat. The seat that I will be glued to until we leave. There is no way I would try to go to the restroom. The thought of wearing a Depends did cross my mind. Anyway, my saint of a husband, kept me feed and hydrated. Jesus, that sounds like I am a dog or a plant. Third quarter, I was done and so was the football team because apparently they decided to take a nap allowing the opposing team to continue to put points on the board.

Going up those bitchy steps was horrendous. If you have read my blogs, you know that I have a very low opinion of the human race. But, Saturday I experienced the world of helpful and kind people. They were offering their hands, sharing how they went through something similar and it warmed my cold heart. Finally, made it up the steps and then my challenge was to make it to the restroom which was near the exit. Because people seem to be oblivious, I would scream “Excuse me”. If that wasn’t heard, I would then scream “Lady on crutches coming through” and the sea of people parted. No they didn’t. They made me hate people again. Getting to the restroom was daunting, but I made it. After doing my business and not falling in the toilet, which is a massive win. Don’t ask. Long story. Maybe a blog. Not sure. We were swept away on lovely golf cart and delivered safely to our car.

I commented to Brian that maybe the next home game, we should use the wheelchair and then I can use the crutches for inside the club. He was a bit amused at me because, apparently, he suggested and I didn’t think that was a solid plan. Oops. Just another example of tuning out my spouse. I guess I needed to do it my way. Well, my way sucked, so this Saturday, we will try again and hopefully, the excursion will be smoother. Wish me luck.