Those Autumn Leaves...

Image: Cliffano Subagio

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This time of year in Melbourne reminds me of a movie I like from the 'Golden Age of Hollyood' (Autumn Sonata and the piece September Song) It is very much a time of closing in, being mentally drawn inward and staying close to hearth and home. Typically I am drawn outside at the same time, to the beauty of the changing leaves and deciduous trees in our parks and gardens. It is my favourite time of year, one when I would trek home from Adelaide just to get my fix of misty mornings and crunching leaves underfoot. But as with everything in my life the beauty has a cost...

Yep, I know you are thinking emotionally and mentally - SAD (Seasonal Adjustment Disorder)... well yes, but not yet. The winter is not advanced enough. This time it is physical.

I went to Uni last Tuesday to attend another one of those tokenistic admin meetings, and not wanting to interrupt the groundsman sweeping the leaves from the path, I cut across the garden and into the buliding. Now that should have been fine, and I remember thinking "oh dear, he's getting rid of those beautiful colours, I guess messy isn't the issue but OH&S is the priority for management".

Ah Carol, thou art psychic!

Before revealing the denouement I need to take us down a short tangent...

... Having survived for years on an extremely tight budget as a sole-parent mum, and then student, I have never been able to comletely justifying blowing money on fashion items. Clothing was always necessity-driven since I put on massive weight. It was money I could not fritter away on myself as the outcome never did bring the desired effect of perceived beauty and self-esteem, merely a need driven purchase of new camoflage layers.

The same with shoes. I was once known for my hat and shoe obsession, yet now I buy barely buy one pair a season, and usually a 'homie peds' pair from the Pharmacy. In my head I know that cheap goods are false economy but given I never seem to have an available $100-150 for an item of footwear. I always chose an Ella Bache pampering session where I could FEEL THE EXPENDITURE if I am blowing that amount of cash on myself.

Last year I did the unthinkable and bought a cheap pair of black boots from Target. They made me feel feminine with their leather uppers and ruching, and pointed toes. My feet did not look like those belonging to a practical sensible woman. The wedge added a height and some elongation of my leg. I felt reasonably good despite knowing that it would be a sort-term solution, as the synthetic soul would inavriably lose it's tread.


Lose tread? I have been walking on 'bald tyres'! And to make matters worse the actual heel is beginning to show and like most cheap shoes it is made of white plastic where the leather has pulled away. It is like my kitchen chopping board, so there is no way I would waste money getting them re-soled.

On my 2010 winter clothes shopping list is new ankle boots. Along comes the TV ads for Rivers... all women's boots at $49, and I fall in love with a maroon leather pair of wedge boots. Carlo and I head directly to the store in Frankston... 95% boots sold out in one day.Only real 'westie type UGG styles left"!! No little feminine maroon boots.

Off to Myer department store and Carol falls for a bright red pair... yep, $289! No purchase. Then in Melbourne I fall for a pair in Chapel Street,again maroon leather and with sensible wedge from a reputable Company name. This time they are a more reasonable $149 and I decide to save for them.

...Back at Uni. I walk inside the building with wet soled-boots. You guessed it, on the non-carpetted floor I slip jarring my leg and hip. Knowing that it was the dear old autumn leave matter combined with plastic worn heels I promise a purchase of those Chapel Street boots as soon as possible and continue feeling grateful that I didn't fall flat on my face.

Then by the afternoon and evening tingling settles in all the way down my legs from rear of thigh to calf. Yet, I forget about it as I do the necessary domestic duties at home.

Meeting up with Glenice the next day I tell her I must have slept crookedly as my legs and back are stiff. I seem to have forgotten the intensity of the tingling and I have even forgotten the slip earlier in the week. So I sit with Glenice at Nunawading theatre and then decide to head back to Uni (again) to catch up on lapsed work. On arrival it is obvious that I cannot even get out of the car comfortably, let alone walk into the building, so I drive home in a great deal of discomfort.

Deciding on a hot shower, a massage of special peppermint balm and early to bed, I find I am unable to lie on my left side or totally on my back. Bugger! I wake feeling stiff but moving.

I am such a sucker for advertising campaigns... my subconscious really takes them onboard. With the challenge to "move it or lose it" resounding in my brain, I decide that this day (Friday) I would walk the stiffness out. I walk all over Frankston and Mornington, dodging in and out of rain showers and wet footpaths... still in those bloody black worn-down boots.

Last night arriving home, there is no more pretending that it is something minor. I have actually injured myself. I ring a local phsyio... yep, booked out for two weeks! Can Mr Rudd please train more medical and allied health professionals... I can never get in to see someone when I need them. It's as if the aged population down here schedule their doctors and medical appointments like they would a car... booking in advance and con-inciding with Pension dates.

One last phone call to Sorrento. Great, he could squeeze me in this morning (just) and he has the HICAPS system where my Health Insurance card is swiped through. Good sign and bad sign. Knowing Sorrento there will also be an out of pocket... but Louis owes me $40 towards Carlo's 21st present and I ...convince (co-erse would be more precise)... him to give me a cheque for the Physio instead. Could not sit up and even knit last night as pain too severe (hence no blog dated April 30!... forget the US default dates on this website...it is actually Saturday the 1st May, 12.44pm).

Happy May Day comrades!
I won't be marching in Melbourne tomorrow, obviously, despite best intentions and plans.

Anyway, armed with adequate funds I arrive at Physio's and find out that I have actually done a facia-plate injury. Short-term and no-longer of great concern given that the nerve damage appears to have subsided. But I never should have walked all day and each day since the accident... one doesn't move it during the chronic pain phase. DERR Carol, that makes sense.

So after a wonderful heat treatment and electronic pulse massage I am now home, sitting (temporarily), with two rotations of very gentle exercises to complete frequently throughout the day. I will be going to yoga Tuesday, even if I can only do the gentle stretches and breathing exercises. It is critical for me to keep healthy this week.

For those of you familiar with my personal domestic situation, you are aware that I have a major legal issue to deal with this coming Thursday and until that is resolved one way or the other, I cannot focus at all on any 'normal everyday' duties and commitments. I cannot reveal details as it is not my story to tell. I own my response to the unfolding events, not the actual events themselves. So...

Just to be topical... I have imposed my own suppression order!"

Ah, the Victoria legal system... now there's a blog for tomorrow!