Sound the trumpets, folks, my ankle is getting rebuilt in THREE DAYS! I feel it’s time to take a little trip, stumble, fall down memory lane.
My first ever broken bone was done while hanging out washing. Yes. Seriously. I was lying on the ground, washing scattered around me, and suddenly looking at Fear. You’ve never known fear, my friend, until you have found yourself with a broken limb on the ground with your very big and very loving Rottweiler racing towards you. One cast and several weeks later, I was good as new.
A year or so after this, a tree fell in the back yard. Again I was hanging washing and heard a peculiar sound. Like a squealing, scratching sound. I had no idea. This was all in slow motion – I paused at the clothes line and glanced around me. It took several beats for me to see the tree, which once was upright, now leaning towards me and gathering momentum. This is where I went all action movie: I ran forward. The tree fell behind me, and I wound up with a few scratches on my back and a bizarre story to tell. In my mind, to looked something like this:
And once again, not long after, within a period of about three months I was in three separate car accidents. I was hit by a van, then a Ferrari and finally by a truck. The truck finished off my car.
Oh, and I once fell into a sewage pit.
I’ve had a few peculiar injuries, I suppose.
The incident that kicked off the dramas with the ankle that is getting repaired happened seven years ago. And yes, it really has taken until now to get it fixed.
I was doing in-home child car. I knocked on the front door of the house I was working at – no answer. It was entirely possible that the parent would be out the back hanging washing or playing with the kids. So, I turned around and walked back down the stairs.
And went down like a sack of shit.
I sat on the front steps, watching my ankle change shape, waiting for someone to find me. I was very patient and because I was there to help, I felt a bit funny about calling out for help. Eventually, the mum found me and called an ambulance. Off I went, swearing like a trooper, sucking on the green stick thing that they give you to help with pain. I wish I had a photo of how my ankle ended up. It literally looked like someone had shoved a tennis ball under my skin. It was hideously painful, very noisy and completely disfigured. So I was a little surprised when the doctor at hospital said it was just a sprain.
Thank god for second opinions, right folks?
Because fast forward seven years, and I’ve continued to break, sprain and bugger up that ankle. Most recently was on the cruise my beloved and I went on. Here’s a picture of that one:
I spent the remainder of the cruise in a wheel chair, and it’s getting reconstructed on Monday. In three days.
I’m nervous and scared but I’m also hopeful that this might mean the end of my tumbles.
They’ve always given me something to write about, though…
Have you had a bizarre injury? Tell me about it!