Give Me a Sprain

Posted by in The Widow's Blog | 2 comments

Give Me a Sprain

Well now, yesterday October 6, 2018, I turned 69 years old.  Funny thing about 69, if you flip it over it is still 69.

I do not have a problem turning 69 and as a matter of fact, have not had a problem turning any age as I got to it.  Age is a mindset if you don’t mind it really doesn’t matter, just stay away from lying mirrors.  I cover mine with sheets, walk quickly by them, or don’t wear my glasses as I look in them.  It’s all a no-brainer, just use your imagination.

Anyway, back to yesterday, I had an awesome morning of sitting and drinking coffee on my patio then went to my Great Grandson’s soccer game.  After the game in Brazoria, I took the long way home through West Columbia where I stopped to fill my vehicle up with gasoline then returned to my home in Sweeny.

We have had lots of rain in the past three weeks which has made the grass in my yard grow quickly but also makes it need to be mowed more often.  Finding a good time to mow for a riding mower is tricky but for a push mower, it is really easy.

When push mowing a wet yard, I refer to it as mud-mowing.  It is kind of fun but you will get your socks and shoes soaked.  Of course, you will need to know how much of the mower to get in the water then when to pull it out quickly so the mower doesn’t die.  If the mower dies you will have to wait a while until it dries out to start it again.  Just don’t let it die, trust me.

Yesterday after returning home, I decided to mow my backyard because the young man who mows for me could not come until Monday.  The Weather Channel is saying it will rain Monday, so I figured at least the backyard would drain better since it still had some stagnant water in a drainage ditch which runs along the back fence.

Okay, back to the story.  I have a young man who cuts my yard this year while I spend time typing on my Memoir.  I occasionally will mow the backyard where Boots, my faithful buddy, hangs out.   “Boots” is a mix of Labrador and Heeler.  He digs holes in my backyard that nearly go to China.   Boots is a committed digger.  I can not break him of his dedication to digging, I fill the holes in then he digs them back out.

Being aware of where these holes are while mowing, I try to avoid stepping into one when as I mow but with all of the rain, they are fairly hidden by the grass now.   Any new holes are hidden destructive craters ready to drop you to your knees at any moment.

After filling the gas tank with gasoline, I pushed the mower into the backyard, started it and began mowing.  I was having a great time listening to my headset and pushing that mower when suddenly my left foot went into a hidden hole and I went down on my right knee but I popped back up still holding on to that mower handle.  Boots came to my aid but I told him that it would be best if he disappeared for a few minutes.

Neatest thing was the mower did not die, so I just kept on mowing, of course being more observant of potential holes hiding under the grass.  To my surprise, my foot and ankle did not hurt at all and I was joyful figuring I  had dodged a big-time bullet.

After finishing mowing the backyard, I put the mower up then went inside the house to take a shower to get the grass, mud, bug spray, and sweat off my body.  I was hungry, so I fixed a sandwich then made a few callbacks to people who had called while I was outside.   One of these people was my Mom and while talking to her, I kept feeling a shooting pain in my left ankle but decided it was just nothing.

Roll forward an hour, left ankle begins to hurt more with each step I take.  I decided to ice it but the ice made it hurt worse.  Meanwhile, my oldest Grandson calls saying they are headed to my house to take me out to eat for my birthday.  I told him that was nice but could we go somewhere really close.  He asked why then I told him because I stepped in a hole while mowing the backyard and my foot hurt a little.

Thirty minutes later when they all arrived, I could barely walk to the living room to answer the door.  They realized that I might have shaded the truth.  My Granddaughter took action by getting me to take ibuprofen, ordering food for pickup, and getting me to put my foot up but the pain would not stop.  My other Granddaughter is an EMT, so she took an ace bandage then wrapped my foot and ankle.   My two Grandsons made lots of jokes about canes, wheelchairs, and other such nonsense to make me laugh.  My Great Grandchildren gave me great big hugs and kisses.

Finally, the pain stopped, the food was picked up, we all ate supper, watched a movie, and laughed at how much fun it would be when I turn 70 next year.  As Frank would say 364 DLUS (Days Left Until Seventy) LOL!

I am forever grateful for the love that these Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren show me and for them loving me just as I am as their “Meme”.  God has so Blessed me.

 

 

,

 

2 Comments

  1. A belated Happy Birthday! Hope that ankle is OK. I’m glad you still had a good time with your family, though.

    • Thank you so much Diane. It is doing really well. Still swollen but no pain. I did have a Great Birthday.
      Thank you so much for coming here and wishing me a Happy Birthday.
      God Bless You,
      Love,
      Nancy

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *