It’s been four and a half weeks since I purchased my big black boot (B3) as my latest fashion accessory. Four and a half weeks since my adventures began. (You can read about it in my blog The beauty of friendship.) I had planned to wear my new red boots as a fall statement. Instead I took a detour through one red and B3. Fortunately, only another week and a half and I can wean myself into TWO red boots. Yippee.

big black boot B3

big black boot B3

During these B3 weeks, I’ve moved through many shades of purple, yellow, and green on my foot.  My twice-daily application of arnica gel (the injured person’s best friend) quickened its improvement. There’s still a purple line around the breaking point of my big toe that looks like something bit me. I anticipate it will eventually disappear too.

I learned quickly that my poor uninjured heel couldn’t take the constant pounding on it as I clobbered it in that hard, hard B3. Not to worry, Dr. Scholl’s heel pads were the answer. I’m glad I got them. My heels would probably resemble ground beef by this point.

Now, Velcro is a fabulous invention. It helps young mothers get their children properly and quickly shod. But it also comes with challenges. I discovered the one connected to B3 in the middle of the night. Since I have to wear the boot to bed, I’ve slept covered by the afghan made by my grandmother (see blog Hugs.) A nice enough arrangement. Until the night I rolled over too many times and found myself in a velcroed afghan burrito. I couldn’t move. Good ole B3 had affixed itself to the yarn’s fibers and sealed me inside. David had to come to my rescue. Midnight burritoectomy.

Another way B3 has taken over my life—I can’t drive. There’s no way I can put that clunky thing anywhere near only one pedal with any accuracy. So I’ve been at David’s mercy to drive me (thank you very much). That arrangement ignores the fact I might want to run away from home. Imagine the scenario. “David I’d like to runaway at 2:30. Can you take me?” Not that good, huh? The upside? He’s taken me places and helped me settle into a chair with my mocha (chocolate is definitely required when wearing B3) and gotten whatever else I’ve wanted.

As helpful as B3 has been and as grateful as I am for having it, I look forward to taking it off permanently. Currently I’m allowed to take it off for hours at home with my toe buddy wrapped to the one next to it. In a week and a half, I get to venture out of the house B3 free. Red boots, here I come.

To reassure me I’m not the only doofus out there, please share your adventures with big black boots, casts, slings, bandages, splinters, etc. I can’t wait to hear them.

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4 Comments

October 7, 2013 · 10:08 pm

4 responses to “Adventures with my big black boot

  1. Years ago I broke my second toe. Accordioned it into my husband’s poorly placed attaché case lying in the middle of the hallway. Since I was pregnant the doctors couldn’t do much for me but tape a tongue depressor to the mangled appendage. To this day (30 years later) it still pains me and I can’t wear flip flops.

  2. Veronica, thanks for sharing your story. Yours is a much more serious one and I’m glad you’ve made it through.

    Rhonda, I plan to be light on my two red-booted feet.

  3. I’m glad you’ll be wearing both red boots again soon but I know you rocked B3.

  4. I am delighted to say I have never had a B3 adventure such as yours. I did have a mastectomy and had to wear a little pack (fortunately it was black, so it went with any outfit!) around my neck that held an anesthetic bulb that continuously pumped a numbing agent into the area of surgery, and two bulbs attached to drainage lines that were attached to me at the surgery site to drain blood and other liquid so they wouldn’t build up there. And of course I got a reconstructed breast, which is kind of like carrying a permanent little back pack on my chest, but I’m not complaining! I’m just saying it feels a little odd.
    I love your new word, “burritoectomy.” Who knew that would become the technical term for a new medical procedure?