Broken hopes and shattered dreams

Well, so much for the hopes of being able to fight rapier again soon. I had a follow up with my podiatrist yesterday, and he has sentenced me to four more weeks of boot on my broken foot, with an indeterminate amount of time after the four weeks “taking it easy.” (I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that “taking it easy” does not include rapier fighting.)

I had also hoped to be out of the boot by the next big Kingdom event, Coronation, but nope, that’s not happening.

The only good thing is I got a new boot because the one I had was falling apart. Velcro tearing up the padding, some of the straps slipping a bit. If I was going to be wearing it any more than a couple of weeks, I’d need a new one.

I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. I mean, he did say “six weeks minimum” when he assigned me the boot in the first place. That implies that it could be longer.

Four more weeks of lugging around this three-pound monstrosity. Four more weeks of hobbling. Four more weeks of being a passenger. Four more weeks of questions from patients.