By morning, things were looking up. My foot felt much better and the sun was back out. I took my morning walk without any major issues and made it through a full morning at church, complete with choir and handbells, in a pair of my favorite suede pumps. Must have been a fluke.
My patient, long-suffering husband had to travel for another gig today, but this time I stayed home because I was having a couple of friends over. It was a makeup date from last week, which I had to cancel because of my stomach bug. We made brunch and binge-watched a TV show we all like but rarely make time to see. It was a fun, low-key afternoon and everyone was gone by dinner time. I had plenty of time to do some chores and start some advance Thanksgiving meal prep.
Or so I thought. My foot objected. Pretty strenuously, in fact. Normally, I have a policy of not negotiating with terrorists, but it was all I could do to get the most pressing chores done before giving in to my foot's demands. I tried to turn up the stimulator again, only to discover that I had already turned that program up to the maximum amplitude. So I went back to the original program. This time, I don't think I turned it up all the way. At least, I hope not.
This is really disheartening, but I hope it is only temporary. I'm still willing to blame it on the storms, the likes of which I doubt we'll see again for some time around here. It looks like the weather will be beautiful for the next week, so I'll know for sure in the next day or so. I knew this wasn't going to be an easy journey, but things had been going so well I had convinced myself the story was coming to a conclusion. Now, it appears there is a plot twist. And this is one story where I can't just stay up all night reading to get to the end and find out what happened.
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