Lunch In Marathon

Friday night after work I took Rusty for a walk around the apartment complex and it was hot and sweaty. Saturday morning the cold front arrived and our walk in the park was interrupted twice by sprinkles from the gray clouds overhead. After the second time I called it a day and we drove home. Rusty is nobody's fool and while I shuffled around organizing my walker and dumping his eggs in the trash he loped off and took a seat undercover in the entrance to our complex. He really is a remarkable dog.

Robert came by just before noon to whisk me off for lunch. It was very decent of him to drive in to Key West from his home on Cudjoe and it made a long drive all round for him as his plan was to get pizza in Marathon of all places. Why Marathon? Because he had stumbled upon a pizza joint not well known to outsiders he said. Like I said it was a gray wet day with temperatures around 70 degrees:

The restaurant called Hurricane was invisible in the strip mall opposite Home Depot. The section on the left is the bar and the place on the right was the eatery. We were looking for food, not adventure so we took the right. 

 You can see at a glance why it's unknown and we were the first customers of the morning. Lots of attention from the smiling waitress and instant beer.

I made an early pit stop, always a source of anxiety in my handicapped state, but I was using the walker not the chair so I was more mobile that way and the toilet was a delight. I'm sure you need to know this but look at those substantial rails for me to lean on! High excitement! A coat of paint and the walls would have been perfect. As it was I positively glowed to be accommodated so comfortably  No falls here!

I had a weakling beer at 4.8% while Robert drank battery acid porter at 6.5% after tasting my selection and declaring it to be disgusting and soapy.  The pizza was sausage and spinach, Robert's favorite at the moment, and we did it justice of course. 

We talked of broken joints and climate change and attempts at my work (Robert is retired)  to suck me into the pointless melodrama of the workplace which I firmly rejected this past week.

My wife has been poorly the past few days and in an effort to reduce her workload I said I'd order dinner at work last night. She suggested we go by Kentucky Fried Chicken so I could try their chicken pot pie and thereby hangs a tale. In our temporary apartment we have weak internet and strong cable service and we have watched a few TV shows. Layne likes the Food Channel and I like reruns of MASH and so from time to time we spot bizarre KFC commercials and they have some doozies, check them out if you have cable.

In between the Colonel dancing with statues and attending barbecues while dismembered (I think) I got to see a pot pie dinner on offer and I grumbled to my wife that she never makes pastry ("Make your own!" I hear the peanut gallery rumble) and I like pot pies. So, being the brilliant person she is, she suggested I get a pot pie for my dinner. Why Marathon? That question again and the answer is that there is no KFC in Key West! Let me say it was actually very good and hit the spot.  

 Robert is a bloody nice guy. He stopped by our house and even picked up the mail for the immobile tired man in the passenger seat. I am trying to be easy going about my inability to walk easily, and it is getting better, but I am frustrated. Robert is very good natured.  We listened to some strange stories on NPR as we did our marathon drive, about some dude in jail falling in love with a  community volunteer and marrying her. His original crime? Murdering his ex girlfriend and his baby momma and hearing that left you a bit breathless. A story that gave me pause, measuring the life effect of a major screw up in decision making which he sounded sincere in regretting, but still....  Life in jail versus a few months handicapped. I'm okay.

Besides I am getting to recover in the Florida Keys which even under a cold front are not covered in snow and ice and other nastiness and my friends are always there for me ready to listen and cheer me up. 

Cow Key Paddler

I  don't usually post a string of photos but I was enjoying watching his commute:

 Not everyone gets to paddle to work or even to play:

 I had nothing better to do, a cripple in his chair so I watched and envied him his easy smooth strokes

His destination might look like this:

 And looking out at the channel it looks like this:

 There are faster ways  up the channel:

 And then I headed home and found some skyward bicycles. 

Animals

I'm proud to say this upstanding gent and his equally suave dog was mistaken for me and my hound. The likeness is a bit shocking however Rusty would never ride in a trailer like this. Modern conveniences passed Rusty by in his life as a stray and he seems unlikely to recover. A vacuum cleaner will never be in his comfort zone.

This one looks fierce but he brought me the ball to play not to be mean. We talked broken bones a bit, his owner and I not the dog, ad I rolled on in my electric scooter. The dog ended up not saying a word.

White Street filtered to look different. It's a cheap shot sitting with your back to the pier and looking up the other street that crosses the island.

 The pier itself is always good for a picture or two:

The joke, which has worn rather thin, is that the pier is the stump of the old bridge to Havana. 

I haven't posted iguana pictures in a while so here is one large beast that got a visitor all wobbly with excitement. He walked past me eager to point out a "big orange lizard just up there!' when he saw my camera.

I don't hate them anymore now I don't have plants they can molest. When I lived on Ramrod Key they destroyed every vegetable and flower I grew. My Labrador Cheyenne was useless but Rusty is merciless if they come within range.    

And here's a picture of a Ford Mustang. Even I, automobile illiterate that I am know a Mustang when I see one. Seen at Bill Butler park.

Key West is looking good this winter. Especially now that I am allowed to drive and am learning to walk with both legs!

South Shore

I looked south toward Cuba and saw this and I liked it.

 Then I saw what looked like the landing craft they use to ferry stuff to Sunset Key.

 I saw it pull out of Stock Island so I assumed with no hard facts it had been in a yard to be serviced.

 Winter is upon us and all such harbor traffic will get a work out for the next few months.

 It looks pretty spiffy. Maybe I am right, all tuned up and ready to go.

 It looks pretty glorious doesn't it in the cool north breezes blowing...

 I played around with the filters a bit, but the camera offers more than I can handle in one day,

  And in the end I like natural shades most of the time:

 And overhead the Navy fliers from Boca Chica were buzzing around doing their winter training.  

What a busy afternoon it was. And sunny.

Back from Miami where the surgeon told me 

I can put full weight on both legs. 

I’m not sure how this will work in daily life 

But it seems I’ll be walking without dragging, 

Building up my leg strength 

Getting back to normal walking, one step at a time. 

ICU Revisited

Walking into Jackson South hospital pushing my walker in front of me took me back to that mid September day I first left my room after almost two weeks in intensive care. My therapist Sean stuffed me in a wheelchair and set me free: 

Yesterday afternoon I returned for the first time and saw Sean down the corridor. I waved. He was the one who got me out of bed and scared the bejeezus out of me. 

He waved back. He knew everything. “I’ve been following you on Instagram,” he said. And he has. He asked after Rusty’s paw and made sure he was home safe with friends for the night while we are in Miami.

I was fighting back tears for the picture.  You were right I told him. I can walk. I didn’t believe it at the time as I lay in bed only able to use my right arm.

Before Sean the doctors and nurses had their way with me. One nurse pushed up my shorts to look at my thigh. The most natural thing in the world in a hospital. She wanted toook at the scar where they drilled into my leg to put a pin to put my badly broken femur in traction. 

“Do you remember when I put the weight on and the said the pain went away?”  Oh yes I remembered the agony stopping suddenly. I also remembered the drill cutting into my skin. We laughed. The atmosphere in critical care is so relaxed. Anything goes. I felt at home. I remembered Keila and sheremembered me. We tested up right there outside the elevators. ICU staff don’t often see the success stories. “This one lived!” She called out. He walks! I replied stumping along. 

And Adam fixing my leg inits cursed brace: 

It was really good to see them and they made me throw the walker away for the picture. I was hanging into Adam’s back.  

It was a long day, even for a passenger through the Keys trying not to drive my wife nuts back seat driving. She knew her way round having spent far too many days driving back and forth during my recovery. 

I was surprised to see the hospital appear above the suburbs. My wife pointed it out to me and I was fascinated to see it from the outside.  I arrived by helicopter and left at night by ambulance on a stretcher. 

It was pretty luxurious but of respect for my lack of stamina my wife insisted we do room service. Argentine sausage, Peruvian steak and a bottle of white. No Percocet for me! I struggled on through! 

And a lovely view from the Doubletree. 

And legendary cookies for dessert. The real reward will be 100% weight bearing on both legs from the surgeon’s x-rays today. Fingers crossed.