The day before I went back to work from a wonderful 2 weeks leave, I was out on an innocent walk with ma’ pooch during a delicious tropical rain shower that blissfully cools. In the space of a few seconds my usually agile body learnt it’s first lesson in being grounded as I slipped and fell and felt something happen in my ankle that was horrifying not cool.
Now, this little Shenannagator has never in her entire life experienced breaks and fractures, or even a sprain, in fact, our entire family have bones of steel – it’s not our thing you see! Even as a kid I’d fall off bikes (I’m talking stunt lady stuff… this one-time I went flying off the back of a 4 wheeler motorbike being manned by brother Nizzle and managed to land on my feet). I guess I sort of took it all for granted …until now!
So, imagine my shock and horror? Every single thought was simply not computing as I literally butt crawled back inside knowing I’d done something crazy weird and like a 5 year old all I wanted was my Momma, she later told me her first thought was to wonder why I was being so dramatic, sprawled half way inside the door panting!!! Clearly none of us are skilled in the art of first response in this family huh? Even Little Chef was whimpering with concern and worry; we all just stared at each other trying to conceive what in the hell just happened!
You’ll be glad to know we soon snapped out of our dumfounded confusion and into action, before long I was in the hospital emergency being prodded, examined and undergoing rapid fire questioning. 3 cheeky visits to the XRay clinic revealed a spiral fracture, which meant a week of sporting a 2 tonne heavy old back slab plaster cast while the swelling went down and I could be fitted with my fibre glass pink jobbie, and very much on my L Plates with crutches. A few slips, tumbles and many a bruise, there I was trying to be, but not amused!
My brain reassures me that people aren’t actually destroyed by a broken leg or fall into fits of depression, because one’s body and mind are slow to come to grips with a temporary disability, but, sweet jeezuzzz folks, everything I attempt to do suddenly seems fraught with danger. Stairs, showers, negotiating footpaths and simply getting a document off the printer is a challenge, and don’t even get me started on how terrifying it is to walk up and down the gangway to catch the Ferry to and from work each day!
In a ridiculous moment of horror towards my mortality, I almost had a meltdown amongst hundreds of holidaying tourists on the wharf at the daunting task ahead of me to get up the gangway on crutches, when suddenly from nowhere appeared a dashing chap pushing a wheelchair (seriously, if anyone knows the tall dark and handsome lad wearing high vizz, with tatts on his forearms…. Hook a sista UP!!!), he scooped me up and took off up the jetty at breakneck speeds to the safety of the ferry. I swear I fell in love right there and then, no matter I was being pushed along in a grown-up pram.
Negotiating the daily grind ain’t easy folks, and I truly don’t like the experience one little bit, but, already I’m finding myself overwhelmed with appreciation of such simple things and all the genuine help and assistance I’m getting from complete strangers to co-workers and of course my Momma who is thankfully here to help with everything. I confess to not making friends with my crutches properly yet, they hurt and seem ridiculously awkward to use, but, I’m pretty sure I’d just have stayed in bed for the next 6 weeks or so if it wasn’t for everyone jumping in and helping, caring and encouraging me on.
Thankyou hardly seems enough, and I promise to get my graciousness on asap, but just for now – this really does suck!
So tell me dear reader, have you ever broken a bone? Tell me your war stories (the more gruesome, the better) in the comments below.