continued from above
We have watched these acrobats on every trip. Very talented kids.
The guys moved very fast so it was hard to get pics of them...
After the show, we headed to one of the stores. Mom wanted to get Robert, my brother, a dragon souvenir and Danielle wanted something, too. I just browsed, paying special attention to details on the year of the Ox, my year.
Well, today had been pretty good. Got to ride the best ride ever, Soarin’, got a cool souvenir (I wear the ring everyday), and saw a favorite attraction. Come to think about it, every Epcot day had some really fun things…
Turned around to head for the entrance. Pushed my throttle forward for a nice acceleration, let it fall back for a walking speed…
Oh, crap, I am not slowing down.
There’s Danielle –oh, this is going to hurt. Time seemed to freeze, then WHAM.
Ow, ow, ow. Stop you stupid chair. The impact jarred my chair where it froze and I couldn’t back up to get the pressure off my foot that was being crushed in Danielle’s chair.
“Danielle, move, move, move!” Danielle quickly shifted and then the pain. Why? Why was my chair in cruise control? Why my foot???
You might have noticed in the pictures that I don’t wear shoes. That is because I have Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy in both my feet. Basically my feet are extremely sensitive and any pressure is painful. So an injury to my foot is 3x more painful than anywhere else.
We inspected the damage. Dad fixed my bent footplate…Oh, it hurt. Stabbing and grabbing. No, no, no don’t let it hang. Why is the pavement so bumpy? Dad applied an ice pack and kind of tied my foot to my foot plate with some trach tie material.
I hobbled home for further inspection.
When Dad tried to take off my sock it was stuck. The cloth was wedged under my toenail. Oooh…okay, it’s off. My toenail was quite loose.
Oh that toenail has quite a history. When I was nine, it almost got ripped off when it got caught on a piece of clothing. Dad gave a mighty yank and the toenail followed. I went to the doctor to get it removed. He removed it and then applied a special medicine,
“Now, only 2% of toenails grow back and only 1% with a fungus.”
Mine grew back…with a fungus.

I began calling myself the one percenter. A resident later named me, “A beautiful unique snowflake.”
A couple years later, I ripped it off again when it got caught on something while I was driving my wheelchair.
It grew back-with a fungus.
Now here it was again, barely hanging on. I smiled through my tears at the sheer irony. And the offending sock was none other but Eeyore.
Mom set to cleaning the toenail. My foot and ankle were both very sore. When I was carried and the foot hung…Oh, not good. Dad carefully propped it in bed. But man it really hurt.

I broke out the Dilaudid and took half a pill…That’s better…
We were supposed to go to MK tomorrow but should we get x-rays? What will we do?
Find out on Saturday, July 28, 2007
Where did it go? w/pix- Page 28, Post #409