Kyle and I traveled two different places in Idaho. The first was to a friend's home for a few days. The second destination was to my sister Kassie's house. We got there Friday evening, and at 1:30 am on Saturday, my sister Nicki and her family joined us.
As I helped unload my adorable 5-year-old nephew Papa (otherwise known as Ricky, Jr.) from their pickup, I stepped off a curb and landed with the full weight of Papa on that leg. In an unbecoming manner, I hollered for Kassie to take him and hobbled into the house. Almost immediately my foot swelled. However, I was stubborn and determined to sleep off the ordeal.
The next morning the swelling increased and my food started turning fun colors. I didn't let that stop me though. Kyle and I still joined in on almost every family activity. The only difference it made for Kyle was a return it his head collar. With my limping gait, I decided that I needed to be able to easily control him. (I've since taken it back off. He has adjusted to my new, weird pace just fine.)
Since my foot wasn't healing, I finally gave in to my family and friends' insistence that I have it checked out. Thus, Kyle got to accompany me to my first doctor trip in almost seven years. Yep, you read that right. I am so stubborn about getting better on my own, that I refuse to see a doctor unless people really get on my case.
(Kyle sitting patiently in the exam room. I used him for a foot rest.)
It didn't take long for the doctor to determine that I needed x-rays. Kyle accompanied me to the x-ray room and stayed in a perfect down behind the table (where he wouldn't have to wear a shield) while they took images. I was so proud of him. Last week we went to the optometrist (a doctor I cannot avoid), and he didn't grasp the concept of staying out of the way. Thus, he got lots of praises from me and the technician.
The doctor came back with a diagnosis that I didn't like. My foot is broken. As far as broken bones go, this is a lucky one. I got away with wearing an ace bandage and a funny shoe for the next 4-6 weeks.
(My styling new footwear. I feel like a grandma wearing my navy blue, velcro shoe. Kyle doesn't care though, so why should I?)
I feel really lucky with this break because I didn't end up on crutches. This could have been a lot worse. Before the doctor told me the treatment, I started getting scared that I wouldn't be able to take care of Kyle and would have to send him to a puppy sitter. Since I can walk, I get to keep my puppy with me. Thus, I had a lucky break!
Now here's the golden question: Is there anyone in my area who wants to help a cute puppy get some exercise for the next couple weeks? Kyle would love to accompany some of my friends on their walks and hikes until I can pick up the pace and travel farther.