Wednesday, September 28, 2016

My Left Foot

I broke my damn left foot. I broke it while falling in a graceful sort of spiral, my foot being the pivot point. I fell for no reason, other than geezerhood. My friend Carol had just pulled up in front of my house to take me to a poetry reading. Once John had hauled me to my feet, I limped out to her car, using my cane to counter the pain in my foot.
Once at The Last Exit Book Store, the site of the monthly gathering of local poets, I found a place with an extra chair on which to place my leg, thus elevating the foot. At this point I figured that I had merely twist d it. It didn't hurt. I had taken my poem about Dupree, which had won the grand prize
(of dog gear) in the WCLV Pet Poetry contest  several years ago, figuring that a prize winning piece would save me from the possible scorn of the other poets present, mostly., mostly Ernest young depressives. Actually this group is very accepting of all who attend.
I left at half time, figuring I had better come home and use an ice pack. Carol was willing to leave anyway, having read a number of her poems. Walking to the car was extremely painful. John helped me into the house, and I applied ice. It did not throb or hurt when I went to bed.
In the morning, when I got up it hurt like hell, so I decided I had better go to the ER and get an Xeay.
Our local hospital has been swallowed up by one of the mega-hospitals in Cleveland, and now goes by the awkward title of University Hospital Portage. County Medical Center.. They have instituted an ER service called InQuicker, which allows you, in non-life threatening medical cases, to book an appointment before you go so you won't sit in the waiting room for hours. It worked very well but there was nothing going on there anyway. I was in and out in an hour and a half. The radiologist even showed me the Xeay. That spiral fall fractured my third, fourth and fifth meta tarsals. A n
urse practitioner splinted the foot, and I was told to see an perhopedists as soon as possible.
I was told not to use any weight bearing activity on that foot. Hah! I am using my broken hip  walker and it is almost impossible not to use two feet to get to where I need To be, I could not get an
appointment until this coming Thursday, so I am staying off my feet as much as possible, except for staggering and dragging the walker to the bathroom. .
The NP said not to get the splint wet, and that I should keep my left leg out of the tub when I take a shower. Now, when you have an 89 year old person who lost  her balance for no reason, does it make sense that that person could manage to take a shower with one leg outside of the tub? Not gonna even try it.

Saturday, September 17, 2016


This  is my original tribe, the parents and siblings. The parents,  May and Sid , lived into their ninety first years and died two years apart. She had been one of the first female draftsmen during World War I, being hired right out of high school. There she met Sid, an intern engineer, right out of college. He was from Alabama, and she from Masachusetts, where they met. They were married over 65 years.
 There were five siblings,  born from 1923 to 1936. Three of them, the boys, were born in Atlanta, Georgia and two of them, the girls, were born in New Jersey. The girls are older than two of the boys. There was a bit of moving between these births. They all ended up in Ohio in 1940 and hated it for quite a while. The younger boys considered it their home first. Only one of the girls now lives in Ohio. The other girl lives in Nrw York state.  One of the boys lives in Oklahoma. Two of the boys have passed a way and are sorely missed. One had lived in Montana, the other in Ohio. Both of these boys were doctors, one a cardiologist, the other an orthopedic surgeon. The boy in Oklahoma is a =retired public relations/advertising professional. One of the girls is a singer/songwriter who has taken her music to many countries around the world and can be heard often on WCL Weekend  Radio syndicated  program. One if the girls is a retired prevention specialist for a mental health agency and an illustrator.
The five siblings have, between them,  produced twenty-six children. All of them have become grandparents, and two were great -grandparents, and one is about to become a great-grandparent soon.
The surviving siblings keep in touch through the Internet and telephone. Travel is not so easy as it once was, and FaceTime is a poor substitute. We've been scattered for many years, but always are able to connect through our shared past.