Friday, June 3, 2011.
I Get Unscrewed. Liz's Whereya'at Diner. I Stand Up And Walk!
I didn't sleep well, not because of what was on my schedule today, but because I had to get up at four-thirty, and worried about whether I would. I did. Mary Ann did too, when I called her. She said I woke her too early, although had I not done so she wouldn't have had time to look for her missing keys or stop for gas. Mary Ann doesn't believe in buffers, which for me take a lot of stress out of life. But I think she likes stress.
All this was to get me to Ochsner Clinic for six a.m., when I was scheduled to have a brief surgery on my injured ankle. It only took Dr. Jones ten minutes to remove the hardware, but they put me completely under for some reason.
This general anesthesia is a curious thing. I think I actually like it. The movement from consciousness to unconsciousness (and back again, too) cannot be determined, the way it can when moving between awake and asleep. It's a living version of an edited audio tape. I go from fully aware to fully aware a half-hour later, with the stretch in between completely gone, as if it never existed. No grogginess or nausea (two effects that the doctor warned against).
Anyway, it all went well, and we were on the road by nine-thirty. I am now allegedly free to begin putting weight on the ankle. (The fear had been that the screw might break if I did that.)
We tested this on the way home. Mary Ann didn't bring my walker, because there are wheelchairs at the hospital. Nor did she figure that I would be enough in the pink to want breakfast on the way home.
In the parking lot of Liz's Whereya'at Diner, I propped myself on the fenders of our car and the one next to it, and sort of hopped inside. This was scary. Except in a few accidental instances lasting less than a second, I have followed doctor's orders and not put my foot down at all. Also, I am wearing the heavy boot that protects the joint, and its sole rocks both front to back and side to side. I am supposed to be done with that thing now, but didn't have any other left shoe with me. It was a struggle.
However, Liz and her staff were very helpful, and there we were, looking over the menu. The Whereya'at Diner is much nicer than we expected. Bright colors, a clean, cheerful design, and a menu that moves well beyond the same old stuff made us optimistic. Even Mary Ann, whose feelings about breakfast are about those she has for liberals.
Indeed, the menu was almost too good. My selection was down to two dishes, both involving crabmeat. The waitress said I'd like the scrambled eggs with crabmeat, mushrooms, and green onions. She was exactly right. This was light, well balanced, not overcooked, nicely seasoned, and very generous in its use of crabmeat. It came with a biscuit whose insides had been grilled with butter until toasty, like the outside of a grilled cheese sandwich. And some thinly-sliced fried potatoes.
This was our first time eating at Liz's, the experience of which jibed with all the comments I've heard from others. Our late breakfast allowed immediate seating, which is a rarity earlier in the morning and all day weekends. I understand why, now.
Went home and took a longish nap. Hey, I've been up since four-thirty. I did the radio show, thankful that the anesthesiologist didn't run a breathing tube between my vocal cords the way they did last time (it's a normal procedure, especially for overweight guys who snore).
At the end of the show, I tried something. I grabbed the handlebars of my walker and rose. But instead of putting my knee on the pad as I've done for months, I put my injured foot on the floor.
Three minutes later, I posted this on Facebook and Twitter:
"I am walking for the first time in three months, after they took the screw out of my ankle. I need a cane or a walker, but I have both feet on the floor, take a step with the right foot with my weight on the healing left foot, then take a step with my left foot. And repeat, until I'm on the other side of the house. No pain! I know a lot of my 'friends' won't care about that, but I've got to tell somebody!"
The Marys all but applauded.
Liz's Where Y'At Diner. Mandeville: 2500 Florida. 985-626-8477.
It has been over three years since a day was missed in the Dining Diary. To browse through all of the entries since 2008, go here.
