The Ankle

In my last post I told of my agonizing day and my fears for the next day.

That same night, about 3am, I woke as I usually do after not taking alcohol for the day, in need of a pee. I wondered to myself as I swung the legs out of bed, how this was going to go, half expecting an agony episode to get to the can. I have had numerous of these traumatic incidents resulting from crook ankles in my football playing days and, worst of all, pinched nerves in my lower back. I don't pretend that I'm on my own in this, most humans of my acquaintance can tell a similar tale.

With trepidation I put my weight on my left foot, expecting a dagger strike. Instead there was a loud clicking noise from my foot. I hesitated then continued, relatively pain free. Again in the morning I could walk, yes a little painfully but no stabbing crippling pain. A bone or a ligament in my foot must have found its way back into place, that was the loud click.

My friend Vince rang in the morning. He had read my blog post of the previous evening and offered to come and help. The man is a retired osteopath with healing hands, who now lives in Inverloch, but still a healer and philosopher.

I told him of my miraculous recovery. He said, "See what can happen when you put it out there, a call for help. The world works in mysterious ways."

Then he said, "I'm pleased you are reading Victor Frankel's book."

I hadn't mentioned Victor Frankel in my post, the author of the book 'Man's Search for Meaning', which I did mention as a means of coping with my pain.

Vince said everybody should read it, particularly now with world affairs so disgusting and dangerous.

I agree.