This uncertainty has gone beyond ridiculous. Do I rest my foot or exercise it? Pack or wait? Keep reading about Nepal or start researching a geographically level destination?
Even work is affected: To tackle Task XIVa2.7WL or skip to Item PN1426b47.935?
I ask everyone: What would you do? Would you go or would you stay? At the end of my appointment with my ob-gyn today, he asked if I had any questions. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do… ”
I’ve instant-messaged M at the university, gasped questions to Anna while we’re hiking steep hills, begged advice from my sister in Pennsylvania, Skyped Cheryl in Nepal, and e-mailed Teej about what’s up with the oracles.
I’ve also consulted about a billion health experts. On this, the pros agree:
- Bad: The tendon will not heal in time for the trek.
- Good: The tendon will not snap on the trek.
- Neutral: The Himalaya tends toward steepness.
- Bad: Inflamed bursas get worse during steep ascents.
- Good: Steep ascents lead to pretty places.
- Bad: Pretty places aren’t much fun when you’re toting a bad foot.
The remaining mystery is how manageable the pain will be. Today’s doc wondered if I’ve done a practice hike equivalent to a typical trekking day — without the altitude of course. I haven’t. I’ll do it this weekend. That will be the day of reckoning.
One thing is sure: if I can’t go to Nepal in three weeks I’ll need to start making other travel plans immediately, or the disappointment will shove my spirits into really ugly muck.
Hows the foot doing? MB
YO, Bul. It’s mostly fine except when I flex it, when feels as though somebody’s sticking an ice pick in there. The cortisone shot and new cast are happening on Tuesday and I won’t be able to drive for a few weeks, so come visit.
Geesh, sorry to hear this. I’ll talk to you later. Need anything, just call. M Bloffington esq.