Christmas On Crutches

I am sitting on couch surrounded by discarded wrapping paper, a few water glasses and a box of half-eaten chocolates. The kids are gone. They're off to their real Xmas-the one with their father, his wife, their adorable three-year old half-brother, their step-brother, aunt, uncle and cousin. Dinner will be fabulous. Step-Mom is a wonderful cook. Aunt D will bring her famous spinach balls and noodle kugel. It's a wonderful holiday tradition for them.

They would disagree lovingly with my description of their Xmas with me as less than "real". They say it's small but no less important.

This year it was smaller than usual as I've been on crutches since last Wednesday. I fell down the stairs carrying what we all recognize as a "mother lode". I was balancing a laptop top, several dirty plates mined from my daughter's room, a set of clothes for my son, and a couple of glasses from his man cave. But the most dangerous element turned out to be the aged "Wicked Good Slippers" I was wearing. They are Wicked Slippery Sheep skin. I've taken many falls with them. So many in fact, that I'd learned how to balance my weight just so to wear them without falling.

I forgot that delicate balancing act in tandem with juggling the Mother Lode. I took a bad fall and I knew instantly that this time, I was not all right. Fortunately I voted for Barack last November and on Saturday I was able to successfully sign up for United HealthCare insurance starting January 1. Tomorrow I will find a "PCP"  (Primary Care Provider) and make an appointment for January's 2). I mentioned my "PCP"  plan to the kids and jokingly assured them that it didn't mean I'd be taking Angel Dust. They of course had no idea on god's green earth what the heck I was talking about.. "Do you mean ketamine, the pain killer that vets use on horses?"  "Umm, yes."  "Oh, that's what you used to call it--Angel Dust?  What a stupid name." I hastened to explain that I hadn't called it anything back in "the old days", that I'd just heard about it. However as I stressed this fact it was apparent that her brain had skipped off to other topics--like whether or not her boyfriend will like the Xmas gift she got for him. I'm sure he will.

Meanwhile, I am sitting with my elevated foot wrapped in an ice pack hoping that my favorite diner will have its "holiday turkey dinner" for $20.00 today. It includes dessert. Maybe I can score some ketamine in the parking lot before I go in. Happy holidays.

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