What a fiasco!
The pickup van was late in coming. Finally it came. The reason the driver was late was that he had gone to pick up another passenger. Uh oh! The new passenger was in the only wheelchair slot. There was no room for me.
Now I was late. My sister cancelled her plans, loaded me into her car, and away we went. We got there and had trouble finding the building. At last we found the building. Guess what? There were no handicap parking spaces. Once that obstacle was hurdled, we found at last the ramp into the building, a very steep one at that.
Finally we got to the office of the clinic that makes the brace. Another obstacle. The receptionist could not find the approval for the brace. Now what?! All this only to be turned back at the last step of the process?
Just as I had depleted all my stored adrenalin, the receptionist found the proper form. At this point the morning got better. The tech who makes the brace appeared with her good cheer and competent hands. Once again all was well.
In three weeks, I will have my new brace. And then? Then we see.
In response to the replies to yesterday's post:
Dean: The physical therapist thought I had a foot drop. I was not aware of having a foot drop but I was aware of the other problem: My foot was beginning to revert to its early pattern of inversion.
Lynn: I love the quote you sent: "Retreat, Hell, we're just attacking from a different direction!"