A rite of passage… (of sorts!)

So, I’ve passed another milestone…a dubious one but a milestone nonetheless.

I’ve officially broken my first bone.  Don’t all go congratulating me all at once, it’s not an achievement I ever wanted to achieve.

And it’s literally a pain.

So how did it happen?

It happened when I was trying to be responsible during my pole dancing class.  Quite ironically, I was trying to prevent an injury at the time.   The heel of my shoe had broken so I decided to go barefoot- so that I didn’t twist my ankle.  We were learning a routine and one of the moves was to kick up into a hand/elbow stand.  It was all going well until my bum got over my head.  And then it turned into the leaning tower of pisa…  that then came crashing down.  So normally, when wearing shoes, the shoes take the impact, and I sort of land with a giggle and a thud.  This time, it was more of a crunch.  Rather than landing on the hard plastic of a shoe, I landed on my not so hard (and apparently not so sturdy) big toe.


To my credit, I didn’t panic or cry (at the time) or freak out.  I sort of tried to just walk it off and keep going.  And then I looked down and realised that something wasn’t right.   My toe looked a bit crooked and it felt a bit sore.  But still I tried to keep going.  I didn’t make a fuss, I did what I could for the rest of class all the while realising something wasn’t quite right.  And I thought I was fine…. Until I left class and was walking down the stairs….. Holy mother of batman!  I was in pain.  And it only got worse….and worse…until I started crying real tears on Elizabeth St.  Real tears of actual pain as I limped down the street.  Oy.

Of course the first thing I did when I got home, poured myself a large glass of red wine.  The second thing was to reheat the lamb for dinner.  I was in so much pain, The Runner had to make the mash.  In fact,  I’ve been told to stay off my feet completely- including cooking.  This is the one bit of advice, I haven’t followed 100%, although it hurts to stand up and move around.

So I’m on the couch with my foot iced, elevated and wrapped..  I did the grown up thing, and went to the Doctor, who sent me for x rays.  It was not good news.  You know it’s bad when the radiographer tells you it’s broken before she even leaves the booth.  And she shook her head, and then looked at me with pity.  Unfortunately, the Doctor had the same look right before he asked me if I had private health cover and prescribed me slightly stronger pain killers.  I think he was surprised that I was generally in a good mood and smiling- except for my limp.  I think the Doctor was trying not to let on that really, I’ve done some damage to myself.   He did use words like “hospital” and “surgery” and “crutches” and asked me if I had eaten yet.  Weird, I probably should have paid a bit more attention before he gave me the name of the orthopaedic surgeon, wrapped my toes and sent me on my way.

Yikes.  I’m going to see the orthopaedic surgeon in the morning.  Just those two words together strike fear in my heart—well, only really when it has to do with me.  And I have to be honest, no one who I’ve spoken to so far has really allayed my fears.  I could be in for a long hobbly road ahead… in the meantime, here are my glamour shots…

Feb 2015 240 Feb 2015 241

Wish me luck!