New Year, New Feet
No-one likes an operation, but if you’re going to pick the perfect time, maybe protracted lazy summer days combined with sick leave are the way to go. All six weeks of it.
Here’s to the many and unexpected benefits of recuperation I’ve discovered thus far.
New feet (eventually). I can barely hobble in orthopaedic sandals, let alone walk, but hurrah for being able to walk or run without pain again in the near future. Without massaging my feet at dinner, to the collective dismay of my whole family.
No access to mirrors. I can’t remember the last time I saw what I look like as my bathroom stool is too low. I haven’t worn makeup in weeks and it’s delightfully liberating. Possibly alarming.
Hard to say.
Online shopping. I’m not usually that person so it’s been a bit of a revelation, starting with new sheer tinted moisturiser for all skin types. Ironic, I know, given my lack of access to mirrors. Also, a miniature watercolour travel painting set that tucks in your pocket (self-watering brush a marvel). And a year’s subscription to Killer Sudokus. Hoping to complete at least one Killer puzzle in 2026 (they are... not relaxing.)
Wearing the same outfit every day. So liberating. During this summer heat, a t-shirt and shorts can be re-donned for days when you’re not going anywhere in them. Which, it turns out, is most days.
Sharpening my memory skills. Learning every capital city in the world. Brilliant! And so useful! I will be the most sought-after team member at every trivia night from now on. The hardest ones are when you’ve never even heard of the country (Eritrea? Capital is Asmara in case you’re wondering). It’s great for sharpening geography general knowledge but I confess the novelty’s wearing off - I’ve only reached Tanzania and I’m flagging.
Issuing requests from the couch. These fall roughly into three categories: 1) Stuff I need and can’t do for myself, like preparing a meal. Done always in good grace by my husband. 2) Stuff I kind of need but can do without in the short term, like fetching me chocolate. Usually done in good grace. Debatable whether this fits into 1 (it absolutely does). 3) Stuff I can see, like tidying the kitchen. Instructions in these areas need to be kept strictly to myself. Everyone’s doing their best and well-meaning advice from the couch on an untidy benchtop goes down like a lead balloon.
Hanging with my pooch. My dog Sid is fifteen and we’ve been through a bit together. Having his chin on my knee, rheumy eyes giving me the look of love all day every day is wonderful.
Doing a proper deep dive into SBS. Instead of the usual evening speed scroll clicking on a pile of online rubbish, actually exploring hidden gems on this fabulous free to air channel we’ve missed and adding them to favourites.
Disability permit. I have never knowingly parked in a disabled spot but now I can! The sheer power of the permit, being able to pop it in my bag and onto the dashboard of whosoever’s car has taken me on an excursion. Parking anywhere, for as long as we want.
Gold.
Local news. Having all the time in the world to lean in to local issues. Finally, the toilets in the plaza are getting an upgrade!! Hands up who can remember the last time the hand dryers ever actually worked? While we’re chatting, any news on the Woollies lifts and travelator?
Practicing the art of not feeling guilty. When your daily shower is an exhausting and protracted exercise of care and caution, it’s great to just lie on the couch and read without feeling guilty, without needing to be anywhere else or do anything for anyone. Quite liberating.
I recommend it.
Feeling grateful for my health and mobility. I’ll be back on my feet doing handstands (or similar) in a few weeks and now have even more respect for mobility impaired people than before.
Here’s to a happy healthy and mobile 2026!