Like a dachshund on wheels

Three weeks ago, I had surgery on my foot.  Three joints were fused so that eventually I shall be able to walk with less pain. 

I am not allowed to put my foot to the ground for six weeks and I have just passed the midpoint of that period.

I have hired a little scooter called a stride-on which is good for whizzing round the house.  
Outdoors I’m in a wheelchair.

It means that my life has been less full of incident than usual.  The main source of excitement is the odd occasion when I reverse my scooter too fast and whack my foot on something.

I have to keep citing the research that says swearing is a good tool for reducing the severity of pain experienced.

Perran has helped by finding Youtube videos of amputee dogs who have had wheels attached to them.  Apparently that is what I look like on my scooter.

Ha, ha, ha.

I have been torn between engaging my mind to devise clever strategies for achieving everyday activities, and simply saying, “Nah! Can’t do that.  Somebody else will have to pick it up/put it away/carry it upstairs.”

I’ve also used the time to force myself to do some of the World’s Dullest Sedentary Tasks:

Tidying my hard drive,

Reorganising my paper filing system,

Investigating my various bits of cloud storage.

I desperately hope that my foot heals according to plan or there’s a very real danger I might have to tackle the chest of drawers containing all our old photos and negatives.