So, last Thursday I took my wife's PT Cruiser to the dealer contracted repair facility to get a leak fixed. The passenger side carpet was a puddle and set to become one of those lovely mildew factories. Stinky car. Not good. New cars should be water tight.
In arranging for the repair I met an old acquaintance, Glen McPherson. He grew up in the church my wife and I attended for many years, and like most such persons I had lost track of him. He made the service arrangements. Thursday, eight in the morning.
I arrived and dropped off the car. My plan was to get some pictures of that part of Santa Cruz to use in working on a project I had proposed on the Internet. That project was to encourage people to put photos of where they live on the Internet for virtual travelers to enjoy. I wanted to use this time to follow through on my own suggestion.
My first attempted shot told me that the batteries were depleted.
"Crap." I said. So, I did some general waiting around. The dealership associated with the service center had some nice cars. I really liked the VW convertible with the fancy letter/number name. I sat in it. I walked around it. I envisioned myself and my wife touring the country in it.
Time passed. Glen advised me that they would need more time. I agreed, and left the place. I went next door to a Walgreen's store and bought some batteries to refresh the camera. If I was heading home by bus I may as well take a walk and get some photos.
So, starting at Walgreen's on Soquel Drive in Santa Cruz, California I began my little photo tour. I walked and shot, walked and shot. At the corner of Soquel and Frederick I took a picture, then took a step.
I was on the ground before I realized that there was a curb off of which I was stepping. Pain, and concern for my camera as I managed to deflect it's fall and send it skittering across the sidewalk. I snatched the camera before it scooted into the street and began gathering my damaged self and self-esteem to get myself on my feet.
As I groped for the pole holding up the traffic light, hoping to be able to use it to stand once again, a Santa Cruz city police car pulled up next to me. He was in the lot of the gas station where I had been photographing the chocolate shop across the street just moments after my fall.
"You alright?" he asked from his place in the driver's seat. I had achieved my goal of the pole, scrabbling across the sidewalk and clutching my camera. I managed to get myself upright and began assessing what my body was telling me.
"I don't know, yet." I replied. As I made my internal assessment of my injuries I looked at the camera. He made a comment about my interest being mostly about the camera, and I am sure he was assessing me for drunkenness. It probably did not help that my taste in clothing is for the rugged and functional, a style not uncommon among the regularly drunken part of any population.
Actually, I was assessing the pain and slowly flexing various muscles to determine my physical state.
"I think I am ok." I said.
"Give us a call if you need us." the officer replied. I thanked him and shuffled toward the intersection. I reached the far side of the street before the injury to my right knee complained. I checked, and found a fist sized knot on the knee. There was a small abrasion, but the joint was functioning well enough and I figured the swelling was superficial.
The left foot was another thing. About four on the ten scale of pain, and functional. So, I began.
Shuffle, limp. Take a picture. Shuffle, limp. Take a picture. The biggest positive was the slow pace. I had time to assess potential photos, and think about my final product.
Two miles I walked. Shuffle. Limp. Take a picture. Got some good ones. I made it to the County Building, where I paid some taxes. Then off to the bus stop. I chose to stand, waiting on my damaged feet. I knew the real pain would come after I sat awhile.
I got on the bus and sat awhile. I got off at my stop and had about a two hundred yard walk to my door. It really hurt. I peaked at about seven on the pain scale.
I assessed the injuries when I got home. Not much color, little swelling in the foot. The knee had reduced to just a bit of puffiness. Not too bad.
By Saturday the swelling in the left foot had increased and generalized a bit. I finally decided I needed professional guidance. Off to the emergency room. One reason for waiting was to get in at an off time to avoid the busy hours. I hate waiting in the emergency room.
In and out in less than two hours. Pretty quick for an emergency room visit. X-rays, an expensive ace wrap and crutches. A peculiar fracture where a tendon pulled from the bone and broke a piece of bone away. It was on it's way to healing well. Not too bad.
So, I still need to finish processing my photos and get them up on the Internet. That, and perhaps I need to schedule a class or two in remedial walking.
Two miles deep
9 hours ago