It's winter and in northern Illinois and that means ice and the hazard of potential falls that come with it. This is a PSA for the elderly and disabled: Be careful on ice.
Our senior dog turned 14 on Sunday. According to this Pedigree calculator, our Treeing Walker Coonhound is 103 in human years! We've been good friends for a third of my life and he's been around for my daughter's entire life. Since about the age of 10, every single day we have with him feels like we've unlocked a bonus level. To celebrate his birthday we did an early morning walk in the woods. Then we enjoyed an afternoon nap while the Bears sucked some more for the last time this season. At dinner, he enjoyed some very rare filet mignon and for dessert we baked him a dog-approved cupcake with a candle, that amazingly, he blew out right on cue with a sneeze the very moment we finished singing Happy Birthday. Baller. Everything was just dandy.
On Monday, we attempted a short neighborhood walk during the kid's P.E. time slot because once again we are remote learning after NINE STAFF MEMBERS tested positive for covid last week, but this isn’t the time or place for my opinions on that. Unfortunately, the sidewalk outside was icy and the hound slipped. Soon after, we noticed blood dripping from a mangled-looking dewclaw and he was limping. We quickly returned home and called the veterinarian and he was seen within the hour. After an exam and X-ray we learned our dog broke his dewclaw and needed surgery to remove the entire broken digit. And for icing on the cake, they recommended a tooth cleaning. The total estimate was near $2K. Goddamn. First thing that needed to be done was bloodwork to make sure he could handle the anesthesia for the surgery. Like a jerk, my initial reaction was "2,000 FUCKING DOLLARS!?! Are you kidding me? Dude, he's 14. How much longer does he have? And for fuck's sake, another tooth cleaning? Can't we teach him how to use a straw or just buy wet food?" I eventually stopped sounding like my old man and agreed with my wife and kid that we'd do whatever it takes to help the dog. Like I said, (through gritted teeth) everyday is a bonus. They wrapped up his wounded leg and sent him home with us. Now we just had to wait for a return call from the vet with bloodwork results to make sure he has a good shot at surviving surgery at his age.
The next day while still waiting for the return call from the vet, I went for my daily walk at the nearby state park. I try to go to the park five days a week and hike for at least three miles every visit. The dog used to come with, but he's just too old now and is unable to do it. Yes, I am disabled and that sounds like a lot of walking, but it's the only exercise I can do now and it's cheap because you can just go outside and do it. I suppose I could get a Pelotone bike or a MIRROR, but I like being outside and I already do enough self-loathing that I don't need another asshole yelling at me to push myself harder while exercising. Anyhow, the paths at the park were icy and halfway through I slipped on an incline and fell on my side. At first I panicked trying to grab onto anything to halt my descent and I stopped for just a moment, like Ralphie from A Christmas Story at the top of the mall slide, I had a temporary moment of clarity where I finally remembered what to ask Santa Claus for Christmas, "I want an official Red Ryder carbine action 200-shot range model air rifle!" And like Santa Claus who responded with, "you'll shoot your eye out, kid" and a kick to the face, I could no longer hold on and gravity took over. At first I managed a "NOOOOOOOO!" but then I accepted my fate and relaxed. I slid about 25 feet and finally stopped and I just laid there for a minute. I was muddy, my back hurt but I could still walk. Unlike the dog, all my digits were fine. Except for my ego and some general soreness, there was nothing wrong with me. So I got up, finished the walk and returned home.
When I returned I found my DRG iPod controller and made sure my stimulator was still functioning properly and then decided to take it easy. As I recuperated in bed that afternoon my wife informed me that the dog's bloodwork was complete. He is as healthy as a puppy so we scheduled the surgery for next week. I swear to Christ if we don't get another six months out of this dog...just kidding, he's the greatest dog ever, even if he listens for shit.
Fast-forward to Wednesday and I decided to take some precautions before my hike. A couple years ago my sister had bought me a pair of crampons for stability on the ice and my wife dug them out of the closet for me to use. I never used them because I feared how it'd feel under my CRPS foot and I worried about my foot drop, but I had to try them. I arrived at the park and opened the box containing the brand-new traction devices. I quickly read the instructions and found an "L" on the first cleat so I securely attached it to my left foot. Then I grabbed the other one, which was also an "L" and put it on my CRPS-affected right foot. It felt funny because it was on the wrong foot, but it is not like I could exchange them now and, honestly, everything I feel with my right foot feels odd, so I went with it. It was like night and day. I was booking it. That hill I fell on the day before, I no longer had to sidestep down it like a mountain goat. I went full-speed ahead like a boss. At one point I caught up with one of the park’s regulars that I saw earlier and he couldn't believe I had covered so much ground in such a short time. He said "when you get to be my age, you take it slow because it's hard to move." I still haven't shared with him that I'm disabled. I have learned by watching Cobra Kai that you shouldn't show weakness because it will be exploited by your opponent. That’s right, I said opponent because he parks in my spot sometimes. In the end, I made great time and didn't have any falls.
I've now been home for about four hours since my hike and I haven't had any residual effects from wearing the crampons on my CRPS foot. As long as the trails are icy, I think that I'll continue to wear them. Also, I noticed they make a metal-like jingle sound as if I was wearing cowboy spurs so now I can either imagine that I'm Clint Eastwood or a Mandalorian. I mean they're basically the same thing, right? I highly recommend crampons even if you have CRPS. I think I should design some for the dog so we don't have to fear the ice any longer. Perhaps my invention will rival Charlie Rutherford Kelly's Kitten Mittens and I'll finally be able to make it rain.
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