Monday, June 21, 2004

Crippling Foreshadowing

Remember when I said this?

"I also sprained my ankle, making packing and lifting boxes a hobbling, painful nightmare. I've been afraid to get it looked at because they're going to tell me to keep off it for a week. So, in true fashion, I've decided to keep walking on it and damage myself even more. Because I'm just brilliant that way."

Damage myself even more, eh? Sure, why not? I like to make my predictions come true as much as the next guy!

So I DID go and see a doctor shortly after I wrote that. The doc prodded at my ankle for a bit, looked up at me and said "Well, you won't make it as a member of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet anymore," and gave me an "ahhhhhh?" look like Fozzy Bear. "Some people actually get upset when I tell them that," he added, and I shrugged. "Do I look like a ballerina to you?" He confirmed that I had done some serious damage on the ankle, not that it was any major surprise to me.

See, sometimes sprains can be pretty minor and can take a week or so to get back to normal. Those are worse than a twisted ankle, but easily repaired. Then there are the "Bitchass" class of sprained ankles that involve torn tendons and ligaments in the ankle that can take much longer. I have a bitchass problem, unfortunately. The doc told me it might be a month, but it might be up to four months. Which, of course, would be so amazingly awesome it hurts, what with two separate moves scheduled within the next two months. He gave me a prescription for some potent anti-inflamatories, an x-ray requisition, and a recommendation to buy a new-fangled neo-propylene tensor bandage.

So I take these pills and I feel great. I buy the bandage, and it makes my ankle feel like new. I let my guard down a bit and walk a little more normally than I did before. Sky was blue, birds were chirping, and my ankle started to feel like a human joint again instead of an inflatable punching clown.

Day 3 after starting the pills, I was walking to a business meeting through a mall, and as I was exiting, a tourist let a door shut in my face. It threw me off balance and I stumbled outside, only to hit the edge of some uneven brick work, felt a pop, and was filled with blinding pain as my ankle folded over the wrong way and I crashed into the pavement.

What happened next was pretty predictable. I was in shock for a few minutes and couldn't get myself up off the ground. Mall security came and administered first aid. An ambulance arrived and a paramedic took a look at the ankle. He told me I needed to go to the hospital immediately and recommended a wheelchair for while I was there. I waived the ambulance ride (saving $250) and got my super-awesome mom to take me to the hospital. It was all very embarrassing, but I kinda filtered out the rubberneckers and mall staff who were hanging around. Pain is awesome for that.

Anyway, because my injury wasn't critical, I had a long lonely wait in the emergency waiting room. Funny thing about the hospital I was at: most doors in emergency weren't wheelchair accessible. I suppose there must be a reason for that, right? I have a newfound respect for people who have to stay in those chairs for the rest of their lives.

After x-rays, they confirmed that there weren't any hairline fractures, but also said that if I don't stay off it and make sure it heals properly, that I might have lifelong problems. That meant at least four days of rest and decrepitude while trying to get my stuff together for the move that Sunday. AND the doc confirmed that it's likely that a full recovery won't be possible until autumn. Gee, that's fantastic! I changed my plans and officially postponed the move for the weekend after.

So now I have a cane. Over the last few days, my loving family and friends have jokingly dubbed me with a healthy helping of new nicknames (Hoppalong, Gimpy, Damaged Goods, Crip, Old Man Winter, and my personal favourite, Kickstand). I have been steadily growing roots in front of the TV until today, when I wrenched myself out of bed and hobbled my way back downtown for work. So, here I am.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Hope my ankle decides to cooperate and act RIGHT THE HELL like an ankle is supposed to for a while!


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