If you buy one of these, found on Walgreens here, I hope it lasts longer than mine did.
Well. With my total knee surgery only a week away, and after my final pre-op appointment with my surgeon, I decided to do a small bit of Christmas shopping yesterday.
I'm guessing that I won't feel like doing a lot of shopping at the mall after surgery and before Christmas.
So I hobbled into Macy's with my cane. Three purchases later, as I was looking for the furniture department so I could
"I have an idea. We have a lost and found. Maybe there's a cane in there!", she enthused, and scampered off. She returned a few minutes later and sadly shared that there were no canes to be found. It was obvious that my cane wasn't fixable, and no substitute, AND this mall did not have a store that sold them. Rats. It appeared that my little shopping trip was over.
I really liked this little gal. But not so much when she assumed her manager-type persona and said, "OK. Well, I'm really concerned about the possibility of you falling if you continue shopping here. So here's what I want you to do: the elevator is right over there. (she pointed her perfectly manicured finger) and I want to make sure you use it. I don't want to see you on that escalator, it's far too dangerous without your cane. (Here she playfully waggled that manicured finger. Oh, brother.) Can I help you out to your car?"
Wait. Did this little snot just inform me that I was done shopping? That I had to get out of her store?! That I wasn't capable of making that assessment and decision myself?!?!!
I sat up straight and asked Miss BossyPants if she would be so kind as to throw the pieces of my cane in the nearest garbage. She accepted my dumb stupid cane with a smile and told me that she would be right back to help me out.
Once she walked around the corner to find a garbage container, I did a little a little scampering of my own in the completely opposite direction of my would-be caretaker. Hmph. I hustled myself out of Macy's and into the mall corridor before she could snag me and drag me off to my car.
She was probably right in thinking that it would have been best if I didn't try to do much more walking without my cane or my brace, but honestly. I simply won't be bossed around by someone half my age. And hour later, bags in hand from three other stores, I limped my sweaty and exhausted self as quickly as I could through Macy's heading to the car; hoping to escape Miss Manager-Who-Kicks-Sweet-Old-Caneless-Shoppers-Out-Of-Her-Store. Bet that was not a pleasant sight.
I took the escalator. So there.
I groaned in pain when I headed into my house. Now I'm camped out in bed watching old PBS programs with an ice pack on my throbbing knee.
And it's all her fault.