Do you ever have a day when everything seems to go smoothly, when life flows without any hangups? You feel good. Your husband feels good. No appliances have broken down. The car seems healthy. You haven’t screamed at a telemarketer or the TV. Your favorite fur baby delivers lots of love. The day unfolds with few bumps. Tranquility has been delivered in a large dose. I had a day like that.

On this particular day, I had a number of things to do and places to go. First on the list was my writers’ critique group at 10 a.m. at a local library. I parked close and ran in. The input from my fellow writers is always insightful and sprinkled with good discussions of each other’s work. I left the meeting on a high.

A good session like always.

Next, I had to drop off a “Book-in-a-Bag.” (This is a copy of All Ways A Woman inside a tote featuring an image from the book.) Going through security into the person’s development proved seamless. I found her house quickly as opposed to becoming lost in a maze of streets. A parking spot appeared right in front of her home. Mission accomplished. A happy ending.

This book.

This image.

This tote with the book inside.

After that came a doctor’s appointment. Parking was and is tight at this particular medical complex. I cruised the lot. Aha. Brake lights lit up on a car parked right in front of the doctor’s entrance. When the car backed from the parking place, I pulled mine in as soon as there was room. Once inside, I waited only a short time to see the doctor which is not always the case. The short wait proved a blessing because a man came in with a cough from hell and sat in a chair two from mine.

One of the lesser maladies taking me to the doctor, among other concerns, was a nosebleed the previous day that took an hour to get under control. It turned out to be nothing of concern. Remedy? Pinch the nostrils for 10 minutes as opposed to plopping a package of frozen peas over the nose while you crane your head back as far as humanly possible or lie down to do so.

This works.

Then, since I had to pass the store on the way home anyway, I went to Chico’s. Again, a parking place appeared right by the entrance. I felt the buying fever pick up while cruising the goods. I bought several holiday gifts. However, I managed to exit before gifting myself with early Christmas presents. Whew.

This could be my nemesis?

The day slid to an end leaving me with a pleasant feeling. But somewhere in my brain was a slight alert, that old adage nudging to the surface. “The other shoe will soon fall.” You know the feeling. This smoothness is too good to be true.

The following day seemed to stay the course. I met a friend for coffee and light shopping in Old Town La Quinta. Good chat, good times. Later that afternoon I attended a memoir writing group in the development where I live. It’s always a very pleasant event. But. Walking from the car to the meeting room, I felt a kink or a catch in my left foot. A slight tweak. It slowed my gait, letting me know the kinky, catchy, tweaky thing was definitely there.

Main Street in Old Town.

After the meeting, I packed up, the last to leave and, as I stood, experienced intense pain in said left foot. I couldn’t put any weight on it without discomfort shooting through my foot and ankle. Discomfort? It was more like someone hammering a spike up into my foot while someone else hammered a nail down into the foot. Walking became a nightmare. I managed to make it to the car. I drove home, hobbling into the house, my husband wondering what had happened.

I put ice on the foot and called the podiatrist the next morning who was able to see me later in the day. After three X-rays? Nothing broken. Diagnosis? A pre-stress fracture. A fracture on the verge, but not quite. A stress fracture results from repetitive stresses below the level needed to break the bone. Treatment? The doctor tried me in a boot, but it was too painful. Other treatment? Ice and elevation of the foot. Cause? Undetermined.

Excursions came to an end. Walking came to an end. To move around I tried a cane. Then I became more creative. We had a wheelchair stored in a closet. We dug it out. I sat in it and propelled myself around the house using my right foot for traction. I found I really could move with relative ease. After several days and lots of ice and elevation, I was able to walk gingerly.

I’m an optimist. I’d rather smile than frown. My philosophy? “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” But that pre-stress fracture thingy tested me. The other shoe did fall.

Moral? Pay attention to your feet. Without them, the going does get tough.