Again, the sun was too bright to allow me to drive to Kimball, but I wasn't about to give myself another pass. I drove to town to the museum and walked from there the library, the same distance (a mile and a half) as around the park.
Home, changed, and went to T.O.P.S. I was chagrined to have gained 1.8 pounds, so am at 131.3. Now, probably nobody would notice this (except me), but I want to stay between 125 and 130. I think the fact that I've had to curtail some--not all--of my walking contributed. My foot really hurt at times and I had to stay off it. Anyway, the meeting meandered, as usual. Next week, I do the program and I'm thinking of some possible topics--all having to do with weight loss, isn't that odd for a weight loss group?
I didn't get breakfast until 10;30 and boy, that makes me grouchy. Luckily for the rest of the world, I didn't have anybody to be grouchy to. Ate and did a few chores, computer and otherwise. Betty called and we made a date for me to go to SB on Tuesday. Showered and got ready for the podiatrist appointment at 2:00.
That proved to be pretty good. Not only did Dr. R. NOT suggest surgery (AAGH!), but he identified the strange "growths" between my first two toes as calluses (who knew?) and he proceeded to take a scalpel and scrape them off. Sounds painful, but it wasn't. He said I should make another appointment for 10 weeks from now, because most likely, they'd come back. He also said insurance won't cover subsequent scrapings, and the charge was fifty dollars. However, he said, the ten dollar co-pay wouldn't be charged at that time. Further, he told me it was possible they wouldn't bother me in ten weeks; if that was the case, I could simply call and make a later appointment and so on. (I'm recording this here only because I use this blog as a handy reference.)
I liked the guy. For openers, he's damned good-looking; maybe late fifties, tall and well-built, with thick white hair. He has a warm, friendly manner, plus a real sense of humor, which is often missing in doctors, it seems to me. And now, Allah be praised, my foot is no longer bothering me, at least for now.
As I was leaving the office, my niece, Joan, called from Manhattan. She wanted to call me on Facetime, but I think my phone, an android, isn't able to do it. We talked for fifteen minutes or so, though. She was baby-sitting for her only grandchild, two-year-old Cora and I was stunned to learn she's 67--I never dreamed she was that old. It occurred to me that her two older brothers--sadly, both died in accidents years ago--would have been over 70 now.
I went from there on another blueberry quest. Visited five stores and either they didn't have any or they were charging a huge sum for six ounces, which I wasn't about to pay. I did get some wonderful fresh asparagus--two pounds, in fact, which I cooked for dinner. I actually ate a whole pound of it (after all, you have to cut off the tough ends) and, with fresh swordfish and the carrots I made the other day, dinner was heavenly.
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