I should have photographed my boots before I took them off last night but I didn’t think of that.  The sight of them sent me into a fit of hysterical giggling.

I arrived at Diagnostic Imaging at 2:18 p.m. by their sign-in clock.  My son had driven me because the foot that I had been sent to have X-rayed hurt more than the place from which my tooth had been pulled that morning.  I sank into a chair but only had to wait seconds before I got called to the desk for registration, then another minute before I went back to be X-Rayed.

The technician watched me walk, concern furrowing her brow. She asked, quietly, Do you need help?  I assured her that I could make it.  It’s just here, she said, pointing to a nearby open door.

She guided me to a chair and instructed me to remove my shoe.  I glanced at my sprained wrist, my cut thumb, and my crooked leg before shrugging, a bit disconcerted.   This seat is too tall, I told her. I won’t be able to reach my shoe, and I can’t lift my right leg — part of it is artificial.  I sounded lame to my own ears, but she sprang into action.

She helped me move  to the X-ray table and lowered it.  Then she stooped, untied my lace, and eased the boot off my injured foot.  Minutes later, the X-ray complete, she helped me back to a sitting position and wordlessly got down to retie my shoe.  I saw her motioning over the other foot as well, but thought nothing of it.

When I got home and went upstairs to lie down, exhausted, sore, my cheek swollen and my foot throbbing, I sat on the low bench which I keep by the bed and glanced down at my boots.

The woman had double-tied the laces.

Just in case.

Oh, how wondrous people can be!  How kind!  She worried about me tripping not realizing how long it would take me to untie double-knots with my lily-white spastic hands.  But I’m not complaining.  I carried that woman’s kindness with me all day today.  It lingers still.

Just two more days until the end of the twenty-fourth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.