Giving me the boot

Back in August, just before leaving for Scotland, I posted my lament at having developed tendinitis in my left foot Achilles tendon.  Since my purpose in going to Scotland was to hike eleven miles a day,, my lament was understandable.

The best treatment for Achilles tendon problems is obvious -- give the tendon a rest, let it heal.  And, in fact, I refrained from hiking in Scotland, following my group of friends by bicycle for two or three days, and more usually by hitching rides in our baggage transfer van.

But I didn't really give my ankle a rest.  There were places to go and places to see.  I walked around towns with everyone else, as soon as their day of hiking was over, and I walked around towns just out of curiosity during the days while they hiked.  

Then I went to Lake Como in Italy for two weeks.  Did I spend two weeks resting my ankle?  Are you kidding?  There are so many places to explore.  I even did a rather lengthy and strenuous hike up a hill in Varenna, to explore a castle at the top.  Peer pressure, even when your peers don't mean to be pressuring.

So I get home for two weeks, and then fly to Thailand to join my nephew and his family.  We didn't do anything too strenuous, but we went out for walks around his neighborhood almost daily. 

Finally, my autumn travel completed, I decided to see a podiatrist.  What your ankle needs is rest, if it's going to heal, he advised me.  Unnecessarily.  To encourage me to do so, he insisted that I wear a boot -- a knee-high boot -- all day except when sleeping (or, I assume, showering).  The boot holds the ankle immobile, so that the Achilles tendon isn't being constantly pulled and exercised.  It also makes walking difficult -- not impossible, because I still have to get around the house and go out for groceries and the occasional meal -- but clumsy enough to discourage me from setting out for leisurely walks through the park.

Walks that I greatly miss.  

But the boot will be on for only two weeks, today being my fourth day of confinement.  To back up the discipline of "the boot," the doctor also has prescribed fairly large doses of Prednisone to reduce inflammation.  And demanded that I follow a daily routine of stretching and icing.  

Even after that glorious day when the boot comes off, my tendon will need probably months of special care, exercises, and reduced use.  Hard to predict, the doc says, shaking his head.

So here I am, a blogger who once prided himself on discussing events of general interest, of philosophical import, of humorous daily life -- now confined narcissistically to discussions of his personal health.  

I don't mind growing old, but do I have to be so stereotypical about it?

More later.  Oh yeah, there'll be more.  Bet on it.