The crutches are tall.
But really I still can't stand for more than 10 seconds straight right now without getting overwhelmed by the pain, getting dizzy, and then falling down. So crutches aren't really an option. I tried to tell my stupid STUPID physical therapist lady this, but she wouldn't listen.
See, my foot is still very un-used to being broken, rebroken, broken again, and then cut apart and screwed and plated back together, and as such has a tendency to swell instantly depending on the position it is in.
When I stand, all my blood immediately rushes into my foot, which then expands and literally feels like it's going to explode out of my cast. But because the cast is hard and will not allow this to happen (although I do occassionally think I feel the juice from the swelling leaking out between my sutures) all it is is extremely painful and dizzying and not at all pleasant.
And so, I avoid any movement and am willing to deal with the complete humiliation of being pushed around the city in my stolen hotel luggage carrier/makeshift wheelchair by my exceptionally pretty friends.
Kurtis, who I've known for a million years and basically grew up with, drove into the city from Jersey to pick me up.
I'll be spending the next few days recovering in the Dirty Jerz with good family friends, yummy food...
...and the biggest friggin' TV I have ever seen in my life. (65"!!!)
Thank you everyone who has helped me throughout this ordeal. Whether it be through daily meal deliveries, or just a simple text or email to check in, you've all been totally awesome.
Thank you Mom, Dad, and Sandra, it is very comforting knowing that you're all always there for me also.
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