My Mental Tarsal is Broken

Darin is taking tomorrow off to go with me to my drs. appointment in Seattle. What a nice man, my husband. I've promised not to talk about my foot all the way to Seattle, and I won't - I'll talk about my "friend's" broken foot. :)

I'm taking all of my x-rays to the appointment, and I'm hoping this doc looks at their progression and says, "I have fantastic news; you are healing very, very well!" Hope that's not delusional thinking on my part. For the last seven weeks, I've been sporting a beautiful black walking boot that serves as a wonderful foot sauna, a convenient place to stash cash, and a great conversation piece. My foot must be healing; eight weeks ago, I was in a splint and couldn't put any pressure on it what-so-ever.I'm dwelling on my lameness and healing process. I don't think my broken foot bone is connected to my ankle bone. It's connected to my whine bone. I believe I'm pretty good at turning lemons into lemonade, and I promise to be back to that soon - broken foot or not.