Jan. 14th, 2014

spatch: (Tom Lehrer is Smug)
I have lived in Somerville for ten years now without a car, and in that time I've become very proud of how well I can walk. I mean it: When all conditions are optimal, I can put one foot in front of the other and then repeat like nobody's freakin' business. Right now conditions are suboptimal, but buddy you can bet that were I not in a cast, I'd still be walking around like a goddamn champ.

After several walking trips around home this week and last, I just did the map-measurin' math and have determined that my current effective range on crutches is a third of a mile, which is enough to get me into Davis Square on a good day if I have eaten and am feeling energetic. The walk involves a hill and I have to stop many times to catch my breath and give my hands a rest, but I can make it--and then promptly collapse onto a chair all sweaty and mutter something about that's it we're taking the bus. (People have continued to be very good to me on buses and for that I am very grateful.) I've also done from Mass Ave in North Cambridge down the bike path to Davis, but then I had to take a cab home because I just couldn't handle that last 1/3 mile. I don't like not being able to handle making it home on my own power.

It's amazing and a little depressing how the lack of mobility has severely reduced my scope of travel. To put things into perspective, Sonya and I routinely walk two miles between our home and Harvard Square, or three if our destination is Kendall. This summer we often walked from Sonya's old place in Winter Hill to Lechmere and sometimes beyond. We've walked a few times from the South End up Mass Ave, across the river and back home. And it was no big deal except maybe I got sometimes tired after a lot of walking. We are just Good Walkers, Dammit, and now I'm taking rest stops every 50 yards. I am extremely frustrated. I keep saying yay, it can only get better as I go along, but it doesn't lighten the fact that there I was, standing in a doorway avoiding the rain again, and I'm upset because I can't even walk from the Harvard Square Garage to the taxi stand by Out-Of-Town News without taking many breaks. S'demoralizing and it gets me angry and you can't get angry with the crutches no matter how much you want to because slamming them on the ground hurts your hands and they don't have ears to listen to your cussing-at anyway. And nobody else ought to listen to it either.

What bugs me the most is that I will be in this foot cast for nearly six weeks total which is just enough time for me to actually, you know, adjust to it all before starting the physical therapy and getting adjusted to walking again. My range probably won't improve for a long time. I will consider walks to Porter victories. You have to have some kind of victory to earn every now and then.

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