The Traumatic Day

Moments of Reality and Truth

4 min readAug 15, 2022


July 26, 2022

Guinness the Cat — still going strong at age 16! (photo taken by me)

Guinness the Cat and I agree it was a traumatic day for both of us. It all began early this morning when I somehow got myself to the orthopedic appointment for my feet and ankles. I’ve been waiting quite a while for this and I hoped to get some answers. SLOCUM is a well-known orthopedic clinic in the area and the doctor assigned to me specializes in feet and ankles. First, I had to get x-rays done. It’s pretty cool because you stand for all of them on this metal platform. Then I waited. I felt tired and nervous, so the mom and daughter singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow in the waiting room made me happy and wish I had brought my ukulele. Then the moment of truth arrived.

The doctor had me stand in bare feet and examined my feet and ankles for just a moment before she began. Then she looked at the x-rays for just a moment.

First, she said, you have the flattest feet I’ve ever seen. Then she went on, pointing to my feet and ankles in the x-rays. My feet point outwards. They’re flat and the bunions exacerbate the issues. The calf muscles are too tight, causing cramping and pain because of a worsening breakdown of the feet. Wow! This is way worse than I thought.

She said she couldn’t believe I walked as much as I did with all this. Then she said I could try special insoles for flat feet and see what happens, but the best solution is surgery. Her eyes sparkled as she showed me how all the issues could heal at once, including the bunions. And I’d be able to walk long distances all I want after recovery. She said it’s her favorite type of surgery as success rates are high for this. Great. Lots to think about. I felt small when I asked for the official diagnosis.

Posterior tibial tendonitis dysfunction. and something about the calf that I cannot remember.

The recovery from the surgery is long — and she’d only do one foot at a time. Six weeks off my foot and 12 more weeks of taking it easy. I attempted to figure this all out in my head. Then the whole thing would begin all over again for my left foot. Six plus twelve is 18. Eighteen plus eighteen is 36? Oh my gosh, 36 weeks is like forever! Hopefully, I figured that out correctly. My math skills are horrible.




Writer of Creative Nonfiction and Fiction; Ukulele Player; Lover of the Beatles, rock n’ roll, and the 1960s. Mom & Grandma; lives in Eugene, OR with BF & cat.