Uncle Mister Papa

So I got hurt skiing yesterday. This is frustrating in many ways, not the least of which is that I've been skiing for over 40 years and have never gotten hurt. This one wasn't even one of those "the fall didn't hurt at all, it's the stopping that hurts" kind of thing. I was skiing on some bad snow and my skis caught on something and spun me around. I slid along the ground for a bit and then my skis caught on something and popped off. I didn't feel a thing. Until I stood up and I couldn't put any weight on my right leg.

Fortunately, it wasn't a knee or ankle. It was my calf. It felt kind of like when you get one of those awful leg cramps, but this wasn't a cramp and it wasn't going away. Fortunately, I was able to get back into my skis, which were damaged by whatever made them pop off, and make my way to the lodge and back to town. So I can walk, but try walking without tugging on your calf muscle and see it's pretty lopsided. I can't let my right leg extend behind me so that part of each step gets shortened abruptly, and it gets irritated if I don't keep it up, so I'm spending most of my time sitting up in bed.

This is just awful. I like being outside in this place more than any other and I normally walk around the lake every day. Now it takes me 10 minutes to walk to the lobby of the hotel. I'll give my family props for trying to cheer me up by calling me Mister Gimpy or Papa Gimpy, and even getting my cute little niece to call me Uncle Gimpy. But there's not much they can do. I can't ski, sled, skate or walk, so Uncle Gimpy it is.