According to the dogma of my religion, I'm not supposed to believe in bad luck.
Unfortunately, bad karma has run over my dogma. (hehe, get it?)
To properly explain this, I have to take you back to a Halloween night nine years ago when I was playing in a band called Mean Persuassion. We had a gig at a nearby pub; My bandmates and I had all costumed-up for the occassion. I was a ghoul. My husband -- who played guitar in the band -- was dressed in drag.
Here's what he looked like:
(Of course, these were in the days before he quit drinking, thus the can of Budweiser. Wasn't he pretty.) :-) BTW: Don't ask who was in the dinosaur costume. I don't remember.
Anyway, all went well at that show until shortly after last call when a dancing cowboy stepped on my foot. Like a trooper, I finished the show (our drummer later told me it was the best singing he'd ever heard from me) and then had my husband take me to the hospital for an x-ray. (Yes, my husband took me to a small local hospital while he was dressed in drag. It was hilarious.)
Sure enough, the x-rays showed that I had broken three bones in my left foot. My local doctor later stuck a walking boot on it, told me to wear it for six weeks and then sent me on my merry way. Well, I eventually healed, and that boot sat around my house for eight years. By then, my husband and I decided it was ridiculous to hang onto the item because, "What are the chances of one of us breaking a foot again? A left foot to boot?" (Pun intended.) So, we got rid of it.
Fast forward to about seven weeks ago. My daughter, who is a cross country runner, came home to tell me she didn't like her new running shoes because they hurt her feet. Having just spent a boatload of money on a new pair of Adidas for her, I dismissed her complaint and told her she needed to break them in a little more.
She did, and for the most part, the complaining stopped, but she would once in a while mention discomfort after she ran.
Then my husband started complaining about his foot hurting. He came home from work and took off his boot, displaying a rather greenish mark running from his ankle to his toes. He, too, dismissed his own bruise. After all, he works construction and is constantly bumping or bruising himself on something.
Last week, however, the pain in my husband's foot grew intolerable. He took himself to the doctor and discovered he'd somehow caused a stress fracture in his foot six weeks ago. All of his ladder-climbing wasn't allowing it to heal properly.
Guess what? He came home with a walking boot on his left foot. (These things are about $300. Thank goodness for insurance.)
After slapping my forehead in disbelief, I chuckled a little at how we had acted too soon when we got rid of my boot. No big deal. You live and learn. Right?
Well, (and here's where I'm thinking I've inherited some bad karma from something) after going on a six-mile run on Saturday morning, my daughter came home and once again began complaining about her left foot hurting. But with the homecoming dance coming up that evening, she wasn't about to let her aches and pains get the best of her.
During the dance, however, she sent me a text telling me how bad her foot hurt. By the time she came home, the top of her foot had swollen to the size of a small potato. (See above.) So, we took her in for an x-ray on Sunday morning, and lo and behold, she has a stress fracture in her left foot too.
What are the chances? I don't know.
In fact, all I can do is shake my head and chuckle about my incredibly weird world.
Anyway, all went well at that show until shortly after last call when a dancing cowboy stepped on my foot. Like a trooper, I finished the show (our drummer later told me it was the best singing he'd ever heard from me) and then had my husband take me to the hospital for an x-ray. (Yes, my husband took me to a small local hospital while he was dressed in drag. It was hilarious.)
Sure enough, the x-rays showed that I had broken three bones in my left foot. My local doctor later stuck a walking boot on it, told me to wear it for six weeks and then sent me on my merry way. Well, I eventually healed, and that boot sat around my house for eight years. By then, my husband and I decided it was ridiculous to hang onto the item because, "What are the chances of one of us breaking a foot again? A left foot to boot?" (Pun intended.) So, we got rid of it.
Fast forward to about seven weeks ago. My daughter, who is a cross country runner, came home to tell me she didn't like her new running shoes because they hurt her feet. Having just spent a boatload of money on a new pair of Adidas for her, I dismissed her complaint and told her she needed to break them in a little more.
She did, and for the most part, the complaining stopped, but she would once in a while mention discomfort after she ran.
Then my husband started complaining about his foot hurting. He came home from work and took off his boot, displaying a rather greenish mark running from his ankle to his toes. He, too, dismissed his own bruise. After all, he works construction and is constantly bumping or bruising himself on something.
Last week, however, the pain in my husband's foot grew intolerable. He took himself to the doctor and discovered he'd somehow caused a stress fracture in his foot six weeks ago. All of his ladder-climbing wasn't allowing it to heal properly.
Guess what? He came home with a walking boot on his left foot. (These things are about $300. Thank goodness for insurance.)
After slapping my forehead in disbelief, I chuckled a little at how we had acted too soon when we got rid of my boot. No big deal. You live and learn. Right?
Well, (and here's where I'm thinking I've inherited some bad karma from something) after going on a six-mile run on Saturday morning, my daughter came home and once again began complaining about her left foot hurting. But with the homecoming dance coming up that evening, she wasn't about to let her aches and pains get the best of her.
During the dance, however, she sent me a text telling me how bad her foot hurt. By the time she came home, the top of her foot had swollen to the size of a small potato. (See above.) So, we took her in for an x-ray on Sunday morning, and lo and behold, she has a stress fracture in her left foot too.
What are the chances? I don't know.
In fact, all I can do is shake my head and chuckle about my incredibly weird world.
14 comments:
That is so strange! I'm sorry your daughter and husband have gone through that. But I can't wait to see the picture on Monday. :-)
Ha! This is a really great story! Though, I'm sorry everyone's had foot pain. I hope they heal soon!
OH my goodness! That is really crazy. Those boots ARE expensive aren't they? I've had two. One on each foot. So, I will remember to NEVER throw any of them away!!
Kat, bad karma indeed. I had to walk in one of those walking boots during the beginning of last year. Unfortunately my insurance didn't cover the price of it. I held on to it until this recent May when I say 'exactly why am I keeping this thing'. It was nothing but a pain. In the end though, my doctor somehow forgot to charge my credit card for it.
p.s. Glad to hear you're pounding away at your second WIP. Sounds like you and I are having similar problems. It'll come together though and when it does, think how beautiful it will be. Good luck in querying the first novel.
Bad Karma maybe. "Ignoring the signals of impeding doom" more likely.
If running shoes aren't comfortable, then you risk running yourself into the ground and ruining your feet, ankles, knees and hips.
I tried a "new" pair of shoes the other day, ran 3 miles in them, felt pain in my feet, and promptly returned them. Running stores are more than happy to exchange them (make sure you buy from a reputable running store). The good stores can do gait analysis and figure out the best type of shoe...but that still doesn't mean any particular model will work.
You need to try them and if they don't work...exchange.
Good luck!
What a crazy story! The moral? Don't throw anything away! Oh I'm in trouble... Haha! I hope everyone heals quickly and no more foot injuries come your way!
I am so sorry for you! And yeah - totally crazy story!
How bizarre!!! What are the odds??
i am soo sad now my season is over. thanks for poking an open wound mom.....
but dad breaking his foot is still funnie
and btw, i broke mmyne first. i started whining first.
i personally think its pretty funny but i can understand why it would seem like bad karma for you...but maybe its a sign that means sumthing like you should always keep your old friends even if you dont talk a lot maybe just call to check on them or sumthing or maybe for your boot u could put it on jus to be crazy for a day.
i understand nuthin ov what u just sayd ab, i tink ur nuts
ps(dad's a copy catter!!)
Molly sorry to hear about the season and i didn't know it ended. I hope it heals fast and i will help carry your books (to computer apps at least) and yah you have been complaining about your foot for a while now. Get better? :) AJ
that was before the dance that the picature was taken!
That is crazy, Kat! What a great post ;) Poor feet. . .
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