It's been 18 days since the accident, so I guess now I am ready to talk about it once more. Many have asked when they see me - what happened? And I would recount the tale again and again - but this is the LAST time. Seriously.
To put you out of your miserable suspenseful waiting, I fell. Badly. It was my first time ice-skating, and perhaps maybe my last. Everyone was like baby penguins on ice - we struggled, we slipped. I was the first.
When I heard the crack, I knew I was doomed. They said I'd be okay. No. I was not. They carried me off, I attempted to put weight on my right foot - it wobbled. It felt loose, disconnected, jiggly. It was only after a bumpy ride in the backseat of a 4WD to the hospital where I got an x-ray that I discovered - I had fractured my fibula.
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A foot should NOT look like that. Look at that weird lump, so out of shape |
What is a fracture? What is a fibula? Were the questions running through my brain. Was it serious? Did I need surgery? Yes and yes. A fracture is a fancy name for "break" and a fibula is the bone along your calf - the smaller one on the side. I had fell with my foot under my leg on the outside - let me draw a picture for you:
I swear it felt like a dream after that moment. They carried me off the ice and I was in a painful daze - it was so cold they gave me the worker's jacket and I was shaking, so I also had some cold apple juice. My foot swelled like a lopsided balloon and began changing colours like a mood ring. On the 11th of November 2015, at approximately 2:00pm, my life had took a twisted turn. It was remembrance day, and I would forever remember it for a different reason.
The most agonizing part was getting the cast on.
It was the first of two - the second was after I went into surgery on Friday 13th of November morning, where they put in six pins and a plate to hold the bone in. I was groggy with anesthesia, and breathing the purest oxygen ever when I woke up.
Other than my surgery, many events in the world occurred, such as the Paris Terrorist Bombings, the release of Justin Bieber's fourth studio album, Purpose, One Direction's fifth studio album also released and not to mention it was a Friday Thirteen. That had to mean something, right?
For the second time this year, I had found myself in hospital. And other than the terrible food and the I.V. drip in my arm (which they had inserted TWICE, the first time with no numbing cream on my hand, just because I was "16" puh!) oh, and not to mention the fact that sleeping with a cast propped up on four pillow is just SO relaxing (sarcasm intended) it was...oh, who am I kidding? It was not fun at all. Even having your own 10 inch TV playing reruns of Mr Bean's Holiday was a bore. Plus, every time I went to the toilet, my foot would turn purple!
Don't even get me started on the struggles of showering! Taping a towel on the top of the cast, then a garbage bag around the cast and having to sit on a chair isn't a walk in the park. And there'll be no walking until Christmas!
I couldn't have broken my ankle at a better time, right? I completed all my exams in a wheelchair with my own special table (lucky me) and let me tell you, a wheelchair is quite a workout on those arms! That maybe the only muscles I'll be building...I'll be on my butt for the remaining four weeks!
I got my cast off last Thursday, and seeing my foot again after two weeks was shocking to say the least. This is how it turned out:
Gross, I know. Wanna see the stitches?
Beautiful. Now, when I asked the orthopaedic guy if it would hurt to get them out, and he said no. Well, guess what? He lied. It hurt like a - well, it felt like my skin was being peeled off.
Well, after all that was done, it was time to get the BOOT! I was particularly excited about this, I guess cause I can take it off when I need a shower. The boot was really comfy; they should make all shoes like this. After being strapped in, my foot felt secure again. I got so used to a cast protecting my foot that once it was off my foot felt bare and vulnerable. Plus, I could barely feel/move it.
So there you have it! I may have skipped minor details, but they are but details, and no one has time for details, right?
Signing off - Boot Girl, or Miss. Foot as a teacher liked to call me :)