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.