That’s my foot and that whitish area in the fifth metatarsal with the little arrow pointing to it is a stress fracture. I am now at the end of 6 weeks of wearing a boot and being on crutches.  I walked on the poor bone for a month before submitted — an absolute necessity in my view since to have dealt with it earlier would have meant cancelling a hiking trip to Italy (which I will blog shortly) and a trip to Durham both of which were greatly anticipated and worth the pain the required walking entailed.

But that being said, the stress fracture has not been an auspicious beginning to my retirement. First, it is one of many things at this stage of life that has one musing about the fragility of the body. I didn’t do anything special to bring the injury about.  I was just running. But “just running” on an ankle that is no longer very flexible because of injuries at other stages of my life — wounds carried with me — means that too much repeated pounding occurs in one spot of my left foot. Second, I am feeling somewhat housebound in any case since returning from my travels.  I stay home while everyone else goes off to work. Now on the one hand I rather like this. I have my own little realm that I can use as I please, with no one interfering for most of the day. I can work at my own pace in as distracted or as focused a way as I like.  And I have managed to do quite a bit of work.  But on the other hand, the sorts of stimulations that the public work place provides are missing. I can’t help but feel somewhat dull.  If moving about were easier, I would be moving about more and I look forward to the moment when I am able to do so.

Any benefits? I suppose an appreciation of the fact that it is not permanent.  And maybe some patience – I have to move very slowly and plan what I am doing and where I am going. I tend to drop things and knock things over. I have to be patient with myself mostly and I supposed there is some virtue in learning that.