Pride does not come before a fall…or after it

Remember my last post where I warbled on about being the new girl and trying to fit in without making a complete and utter arse of myself? Well…it hasn’t gone so well and I’m now known as the Girl on Crutches. This isn’t some cunning euphemism; I actually am on crutches – have been for 4 weeks and there’s no end in sight. It makes being stealthy and quiet in the office nigh on impossible on account of the clunk/click/creak of said crutches coupled with my odd gait that can only come when one of the lower limbs is, as it’s known in technical terms, fucked.


4 days in into my new job I had taken a day’s holiday to go and see the Stereophonics in Manchester, a birthday gift from Husband. In the morning I needed to (finally) go and talk to the neighbour that backs on to our house about a tree that is in the way of the new fence and given that she is about 108, it was easier for me to walk to her than vice versa. The irony now is that a woman approximately 4 times my age is now more agile and mobile than me is one I try not to ponder at any length. We exchanged pleasantries, I explained why I was there and having got a hearty “I hate that tree, cut it down by all means” (only a slight paraphrasing there), I went to leave. And fell off her drive.

When I say fell off, I actually do mean it. Admittedly, it was approximately a 5″ fall, but a 5″ fall, going down hill, with apparently piss-weak ankles but somehow, it was a spectacularly good/bad fall and resulted in paramedics, most of Old Neighbour’s neighbours being super lovely and about a thousand litres of gas and air: ladies, I see why it’s used for childbirth – if nothing else, it gives your birth partner a good laugh when you are off your face and telling everyone you have big teeth*. Suffice to say, I missed the Stereophonics (as did Husband – I’m so sorry, again) and I spent the best part of 5 hours in a lovely A&E department being seen by lovely doctors and nurses and radiographers.

I’m no stranger to sprained ligaments, twisted ankles and using crutches is a skill that I developed way before I hit uni, although at uni, being on crutches and drunk is a whole new set of skills. What I had forgotten was the complete lack of being able to do anything for myself for the first few days (get up and down stairs, in/out of bed, showering, carrying anything unless it was slung around my neck) and how frustrating it is.  I’m still not off the double crutches and after a couple of physio sessions ending in fainting/referral back to have more x-rays, I’m no further forward. I have however managed to make a small batch of jam (stand in one spot, minimal moving required), order a steam mop (so I can clean the bathroom without needing to bend over the bath) and I’m slowing working my way through the entire Netflix box set range while working on my next crochet project.

According to Nice but Stern consultant, this is not going to be a quick fix. MRI scans are needed and she keeps mentioning the S word as a possible requirement…but I’m saving that as a last resort. In the mean time, I’m having to do as I’m told, rest it, keep taking the pain killers, physio and not try to do stuff that I need help with. I’m lucky Husband is Nice but Stern too, especially when I try to do really simple but in this condition, quite stupid things such as carry 4 cups in one hand, water the flowers, cook and generally do normal house stuff.  Tomorrow, extra sexy new boot arrives to give a bit of much needed support which should help in the Getting Better process.

Would you believe me if I said it was a Louboutin?

The upside? People at work think I’m a bit mad for going to a conference, on crutches, on the 2 hottest days of the year, 2 weeks after injuring myself and because of this, know my name to ask me to do things at work – always handy for a new girl especially when she’s trying to get to know them and ensure there is plenty to do.

I know I’ll get better and it will heal and this will be a blip in the grand scheme of things. I’m just the world’s least patient patient.

* this may have been a side effect of the gas/air – along with telling people I was a tree. I’m nothing if not hilarious, even when in pain and causing other people to miss stuff they really wanted to do. Which probably isn’t my greatest quality. I’ll work on that.

5 responses to “Pride does not come before a fall…or after it

  1. Ah hurting anckles, legs or any other part of your body suck. Even worse when you have to miss something (I’ve done that).

    Mind you it could be good excuse to relax and get your other half to do the fetch and carry I say

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.