Just when things couldn't get worse...

You know the saying, “just when you think things can’t get worse, they do”? Or something like that.

Well, so here we go again – or still – things continuing to get worse.

After two beautiful days over the Memorial Day weekend, I fell on Monday going down my basement stairs and broke a bone in my right foot. 

 Not really much more I can say about that. 

I’m back in the boot which I wore for six weeks last year due to a painful bone spur on my left heel. This time, however, I’m supposed to be non-weight bearing on the injured foot.

Which is where my mom’s walker comes in. Let me tell you, it was a huge blow to this fifty-something-year-old to be hobbling around my house pushing this thing. The only bonus is all the stuff I can carry in it. I didn’t get a picture of the storage hatch beneath the seat. I still need to load it up with treats though.

I didn’t get a picture of the shower chair that Hubby brought into the bathroom. That was another blow to my ego, sitting on that disgusting thing so I could wash my hair in the shower. No picture of the crutches Hubby bought me yesterday, either. I’m pretty excited to be able to get out of the house and tole around the yard on them. Seems like these things always happen to me in the spring, when I have so much to do outside, and then I’m laid up with a bad back, a heel spur or a broken hoof.

At least the swelling is going down, even if the bruising is more colorful. 

Wish me luck with this!