Earlier this week, I was mad blogging about the Hay Festival, books, authors and the rain. I could only wish for enough free time to read all the books I have lined up on my coffee table and Kindle app.
Today, the sun is shining, and while I should be sitting at the How The Light Gets In Festival just up the road from me, listening to live music or at the Hay Festival with my daughter…I’m inside, reading one of the many books I have lined up on my coffee table and Kindle app.
With my foot propped up.
They think. (Think?)
I fell. Clumsy, I am, but I’ve never broken a bone before, not even when I bought my first pair of Rollerblades at about 23. But I tripped forward, awkwardly, rolling my toes under and putting my weight on the top of my foot. (Ok. The full story? I was kneeling on the floor, folding laundry, sitting back on my feet, and one of said feet fell asleep. I stood up, discovering said foot was completely pins-and-needles numb, stupidly put my weight on said sleepy foot, and, catching my big toe on the carpet, fell forward, with the top of my foot folding on the floor. )
There was a loud *crack*. However, t looked more like a sprain, and the next morning my lovely friend and neighbor drove me to a nearby hospital which has a minor injury unit, to get a “just to be safe” x-ray.
To make an already-too-long story short, they asked “have you injured this foot before? Because, it’s curious, there is a bone chip but it kind of looks like it’s an old one. But it IS tender there (poking foot – OUCH!) so….we think it is probably broken.”
(A confidence-inspiring diagnosis….)
“Yes, we’ll treat it as a break”, she continued, “so here is some paperwork, give it to them at Neville Hall” (a larger hospital about another 20 miles away) “…you have an appointment at the fracture clinic on Monday”.
I stare down at the cotton gauze wrap they’ve (loosely) put on my foot. The chances of that surviving until Monday are slim-to-none, and I’m pretty confident I’ll resemble a resurrected mummy by the time I hobble into the fracture clinic. I also have to wonder at the sensibility of giving a hugely uncoordinated person with a bouncy, always underfoot cocker spaniel a set of crutches.
I’m angry at myself. I’ll likely miss out on my day at Ascot, as I can’t imagine hobbling around on these aluminum sticks and one heeled shoe to match my adorable little hat. My Couch-to-5K plan is put on hold. So are my daily dog walks, which I enjoy nearly as much as Macy. I can’t run the vacuum, carry a laundry basket, scrub bathtubs, or..
Ohhhhhhh….Cloud, meet silver lining.
If you need me, I’ll be here in my big blue chair, foot propped up.
Frustrated. But reading.
Be careful what you wish for, people….
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