On bended knee

Well, not really on bended knee; just a short while before my knee wouldn’t bend. It sounded like a catchy title, so, here you have it. I blame it on the pain medication.

We often stop in the Ginkgo Restaurant and Cafe at the Morton Arboretum for a cup of coffee or chocolate, sometimes breakfast or lunch, depending on what’s on the docket for the day, and we’ll sit at one of the tables, looking out the long expanse of windows that afford a view of Meadow Lake, with its mile or so walking path.

In summer, there are baby strollers – and those who stroll – taking the footpath around the lake, looking for sunning turtles and enjoying the lush colors of the season as the prairie plants reach a crescendo.

In spring, grackles may be nesting. They dive-bomb those walking along the path, especially those wearing red. I always want to jump up at shout “take cover” and bang on the windows, warning walkers of eminent attacks. I don’t, of course, and the birds are just warning passers-by.

In fall, there are the magnificent colors that remind me of why we must suffer the cold of winter, in a “to every season” sort of way. The Morton is ablaze in the brilliance of nature come fall, and the cafe is just the place to stop and catch one’s breath.

In winter, there is a coating of snow and a sheet of ice on Meadow Lake. Whiteness and quiet and the hush-a-bye beauty of snow in its more peaceful mood lend a perfect hand to reflect on through the windows.

On Sunday, with a pocket of time in our schedule, an unplanned moment, we decided to drive out to the Arboretum after church. I needed to be home by noon in order to meet up with a friend to see her young granddaughter’s art in an exhibit. As we drove through the Piney Woods, all dusted in snow with the ascending trunks reaching toward heaven, it felt like a cathedral. My unsung prayers drifted upward as we slowly drove about.

You know the rest of the story, from my previous post, so, I won’t repeat it here. I am relieved to say that my knee seems to be healing, I’ve made progress in mastering the cane, and am hoping to slowly resume activities and begin to look to what more I made need to do. All that knee jerking activity is what it is and what will be will be. Thank you all for you kind words, thoughts, and prayers.

Before I turned on a dime (so to speak), while enjoying refreshments in the Cafe, the world outside seemed to glow in possibilities, large and small. The lake before us, just outside the glass. A couple, one with cane and the other helping him along, slowly made their way around. A premonition?

Between the lake, the glass, and me, was the back of a chair with the signature cutout of a ginkgo leaf, just waiting for me to gaze through it, to share a different view of the world.

 

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Caning

Lady Violet makes it look so easy, walking and talking, exchanging wisdom and wit with whomever is at her side, all while walking with a cane in hand, which she uses like a pen, scripting exclamation points with a flourish here and there. She leans on that cane as she graciously rises from a chair and knows right where to put it when waltzing with Branson; after all, he knows how to steer a car.

I’m no Lady Violet. I might have a bon mot or two, but, I usually remember them an hour after the conversation has ended.

As for brandishing a cane, well, let’s just say that I gave the technician in the ER something to talk about during his break. He wrapped me up with a compression bandage, then velcroed me into a stabilizer, and handed me my weapon, er walking aid, as he released the brakes to the chair. He looked at me in shocked surprise as I tried to walk two feet to the wall. Tom was trying not to laugh as he watched, but, in the end, we all had a good chuckle. Remember, dear one, I’m the gal who can’t walk and chew gum at the same time.

“Okay, Penelope, let’s try this again. Put the cane in your left hand. Use it to take the weight off of your right knee as you stand. “ .

I’m fine, just having a bit of a bother with my knee and some pain medication that has me more than a little drowsy.I slept all afternoon.

My Antler Man and I were at the Morton Arboretum, enjoying the view of the lake, while sipping on coffee and munching on muffins. We had stopped there after church, something we like to do on a Sunday morning. As we walked back to the car, my knee suddenly gave out, with a hearty helping of pain. I nursed it back home, while Tom nursed me; you know the routine, Advil, a bag of frozen vegetables, and elevation. As time went on, it became apparent that I needed more than a frozen bag of peas, so, off we set to the ER. After a few x-rays and a lot of questions, I was released to go home to rest, with some pain medications, an elastic wrap, a bulky stabilizer, and a cane.

With a bit of arthritis in the knee and some fluid, I should be fine after a spell, but, have a plan of action of I’m not; a bridge to cross with cane in hand if need be. The realities of the aging process, and a car accident some years ago where my knee and dashboard met are the culprits. I don’t even have a Perils of Penelope story to tell,  just a reality of life.

In-the-meantime, I’m really quite fine, just having a bit of bother and a crash course in caning. My own reality check after photographing this couple walking around the lake at the Morton from the view of the cafe.  They were walking, arm-in-arm, ever-so-slowly in the cold, bundled up and determined, one of them brandishing a cane.

 

 

 

 

 

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