Yesterday morning at 7:23 my mother and two sons entered our bedroom. My mother carried the tray that the boys had so carefully prepared. It was breakfast in bed: coffee with half and half (because really, what good is coffee without half and half?), generous portions of orange juice (I am notoriously stingy with orange juice, a trait inherited from my grandmother, bless her), raisin bran (with milk in a separate pitcher because we all know what happens to raisin bran when we add the milk Too Soon), toast (whole wheat bread, a really good kind, that makes really good toast), and strawberries (in a blue bowl, and strawberries should always be served in a blue bowl for aesthetic reasons), and an assortment of jams.
This was William’s idea. He asked his dad to set their alarm extra early for reasons he was unwilling to divulge. And the boys got up and got their Gran-Sue’s help, and brought us breakfast in bed. And though my foot hurt and I had slept badly and was working off the effects of codeine and had trouble fixing my eyes open, still I loved every bite. And after we finished eating, my mother whisked away the tray and dishes, and the boys snuggled under the blankets, and we pretended to try to go back to sleep.
Everett had washed the strawberries himself.
Yesterday Bill and I went to see the orthopaedist (and it is spelled with an a) who is a Very Busy Man. We waited for him for over an hour and a half, and were not sorry to do so, because he is a Very Busy Man for Good Reason. And this Reason is that he is Most Excellent at what he does. But he was disappointed with me, because the CT scan shows that the ligament in my foot is Utterly Healed, and so he will not need to perform surgery on my foot. This did not disappoint him because I have a spectacular foot (though my arches have been admired, I’ll freely admit), but because he likes to do this surgery, and will not have the chance this time.
I, however, am confident that he will have the opportunity to perform it again. Meanwhile, I am grateful to know that I am already on the mend. I no longer have to wear my Giant Moon Boot with its many noisy velcro straps, and I am beginning to find already that my prescription pain killers are unnecessary. I do have to stay off my foot for at least another four weeks, after which time we’ll visit the doctor again. But I am so grateful to be on This Side of it all, and to be Getting Better.
Yesterday Bill and I celebrated my Healed Ligament with lunch outside of Foster’s. It was beautiful yesterday. Blue, blue, blue sky, and a wind, and warm air, and Everything Abloom. And as we ate together, Bill reflected on spring up north, and how it was reluctant to come until May. He chuckled to himself.
“I was remembering how it never got warm in Grove City,” he said. He was thinking of the town where we went to college, in Pennsylvania, halfway between Pittsburgh and Erie. He said, “And then in May, the girls would start to wear shorts, and you could see their legs for about three days, and then it was time to go home.”
I thought that was very funny. Boys are so cute. Don’t you think they are cute? And a just little sad? But it’s a cute kind of sad, so that’s okay.
