The good, the bad, and the hideous.

The good:
- I am currently wearing a Clifford the Big Red Dog Band-Aid on my thumb
- I am starting to "walk" a little more. I put that in quotations because, let's be honest, what I'm doing doesn't look all that much like walking. Unless I'm going fast, it's more of a clumsy gait. I start off okay (heel to toe, heel to toe) with my left heel down. I then move my weight to that side. It's pretty difficult not to lean on the crutches, though, so I do use my arms a significant amount. This is when it gets interesting- the painful part is when the weight is more on the ball of my foot. So I end up limping hard onto my right leg at about mid-stride, which looks ridiculous.
- We have lowered my crutches a notch so that I'm not leaning on my armpits as much (yay!) and I'm putting more weight on the ankle
- The other day I walked around several stores, including Home Depot (we had a specific in-store destination) and Best Buy (they have nice chairs to rest in).
- I get the stitches out tomorrow.

The bad:
- I needed a Band-Aid on my thumb
- I still have to use a wheelchair to get around big places. Also, there's rarely anywhere to store the wheelchair once we get somewhere I can walk. So, I'm stuck in the damn thing.
-Strangers have been more and more inclined to tell me about their injuries at the most inopportune moments. It's one thing when someone holds the door and says "Oh, crutches are such a pain!" or "I remember what that was like!" That's camaraderie. I guess. But the sales agent at P.C. Richard and Sons telling me all about how he hurt his ankle worse than I did (I never even told him what I did!) when he fell through his staircase was just awkward. We're shopping for a dishwasher, man. I have limited standing time and you're using it up telling me how much worse off you are than I. Also, we are just looking, thanks.

The hideous:
- A slovenly man with long, stringy hair that orbited the shiny bald crown of his head walked up to us at a NYC holiday market. He was wearing a t-shirt that was too short in front and showed the bottom of his belly and dirty, baggy jeans. On his left foot was a dingy boot, shorter than mine, with a few of the velco straps undone and flying in the wind. He did not walk with imediment. He said, "I'm like you!" while pointing to the boot.

Are those my people now??!?!?