I am Igor

Tuesday it took me nearly three hours to get to the office: probably 30 minutes hobbling a single block, using one crutch; waiting for the next #88 bus (probably 20 minutes); waiting almost 45 minutes for the F bus to reach the transfer point; time to cross the bridge; time to wait for the next bus; time to ride the #10 to Fourth and Townsend; time to hobble up Lusk to the building.

But my coworkers surrounded me with concern. One offered to give me a ride home. Another offered to drive me to work the rest of the week. Somebody drove my car home from its Emeryville parking space. A neighbor drove me to an ATM and then to my massage therapy appointment, and waited until I was done. Today, someone walked across the street and picked up my sandwich order at lunch. Another friend is picking me up at BART this evening, and still another will take me to the airport this weekend and help me get boarded on a plane.

My massage therapist is a wizard. He pulled and poked, and some of it hurt, but when it was done I could stand somewhat more comfortably, and he suggested I borrow a cane from him rather than use the crutches. Since I had fallen five times using crutches or a single crutch, this seemed worth trying. The swelling in my foot went down visibly while I was in the therapist's office -- when I left, I could actually buckle the Clarks sandal I was wearing on the injured foot. (Before, I had worn the shoe buckled over the toes, but open across the arch.)

Crutches are only for the young, I decided. You need strong thigh muscles in the "good" leg, and strong hands and strong arms. My thigh and arm muscles started spasming after using the crutches for a short time. I'm strong enough to pull myself along for a few minutes, but not for any extended time. The cane is easier, though my right hand and forearm are now sore. -- Rachel