Moon Shoes

The foot saga continues… but first, a trip down memory lane:

My very first best friend was Rebecca. Our moms called us Salt and Pepper because I had blond hair and she had black hair. She shared my love of The Little Mermaid, surpassed my love of reading, and inspired my love of the flute. One of the things that drove our parents nuts was that we went through a phase where we always traded shoes whenever we were together. I don’t remember why we started doing that, but I remember that it became a sort of game because we had to be sneaky about hiding it from our moms so that they wouldn’t make us trade them back before we even left each other’s houses.

Anyway, I remember Rebecca, her brother, and I visiting their dad’s house once (I think he lived further away). And honestly, I don’t think I would have remembered the visit at all if it hadn’t been for the moon shoes. They were the coolest things ever. Each shoe was an oval plastic cylinder that was several inches larger than the circumference of your foot and it put you several inches off the ground. In the middle of the cylinder, there were a million thick rubber bands suspending the small platform for your foot. And with each step, you bounced gently. Apparently, the idea was to mimic walking on the moon, but I didn’t give that a second thought. All I knew was that they gave me the coolest feeling as I tried to walk around in them and I loved it.

I lost touch with Rebecca, but I’m not quite sure when. There’s still a specific Burger King and a particular Del Taco that always make me think of her. The last time I saw her was when I convinced my mom to let us drop by and say hi… I think I might have been in sixth grade at the time. I saved a news article that mentioned her (I think it had to do with playing the flute) in high school. And I actually recently found her on Facebook and learned that she went to college with a friend of mine and is now in Med. school.

The reason my moon shoe experience comes to mind is because yesterday the doctor prescribed me a moon boot (also known as an Air Walker) for my ankle/foot injury. Apparently, the x-rays I took earlier this week revealed what the swelling had hidden in the initial x-rays: I have a fractured 5th metatarsal (as originally suspected) AND a chipped cuboid (as most recently diagnosed). So after 7 weeks, they’ve put me in a bigger boot (which does not even remotely resemble the shoe its name pulled from my memory) to stabilize the ankle joint so that it can heal.

Aren’t you supposed to downgrade, NOT upgrade?! Whatever. Its more comfortable and tons more supportive (well, it better be because it was also tons more expensive). I think it will be easier to walk in, but I’m still adjusting.

And I definitely feel like complaining about the whole thing, and part of me wants to hide the boot so that the concerned questions about my ankle don’t start all over again. Don't get me wrong, I’m perfectly happy to answer everyone’s questions the first time around - as well as scattered follow-ups... but all over again?... seriously? I feel like the very presence of the large brace forces people to ask and I really hate that this silly foot injury is such a big deal in my life.... grrr... why can't they make invisible braces or something...? For crying out loud, I want to be able to wear a skirt to church without feeling like I'm begging for sympathy and attention! Wah!

But the reality is that there are several things that I’ve been able to do in the last month that I probably wouldn’t have been able/allowed to do if they had started me with the moon boot (as opposed to the ankle-high post-op shoe):

- wear normal shoes to my cousin’s wedding in Arizona
- go on the Babler Park field trip with the kids from my practicum (let alone creek walk)
- spend the afternoon walking around the zoo with Jennifer and Tim (cousins from Illinois)

So I’ll try not to complain. :)