This morning I got up and showered, fixed my hair, put on jewelry for the first time in months (can't wear jewelry when I'm working because I could get mugged). Fany and I had painted our nails so I found clothes that would go over the cast and match my nails. I was feeling good!
The cab driver came right on time. It felt strange to be outside of my house watching bright colored houses whiz past from the back seat of his car.
(Nothing actually whizzed. My taxi driver is an older man with a very old car. We drive quite slowly because the car is not capable of, or safe at, high speeds.)
I got to the doctor's office a half hour early, expecting to be the first one. Two people were already ahead of me. The doctor came 50 minutes late. Thank God I hadn't asked the cab to wait.
As I waited, I prayed. Maybe I'd go back to work tomorrow? I was starving. The lunch hour was quickly passing.
My foot began to throb. It needed to be elevated. The waiting room was almost empty. I swung my leg around and propped my calf up on the chair next to me, careful not to let any dirty part of my foot touch the plastic seat. A man who was waiting with another patient looked at me and said, "Que ordinaria." He just stood there glaring at me.
I'm not sure exactly what ordinary means in Spanish, but I know it's not good. Fany used it last night to describe a girl whose chest was bursting out of her dress. I think it means something like an ignorant scum-bag. The man was clearly mad that I had my casted ankle on the seat. I didn't care. There were plenty of empty seats, everything was clean and my ankle felt better elevated.
Finally it was my turn. After hitting on me the last time, the doctor didn't seem to remember me this time! It was strange. He asked if I had even been in this office before. I had to remind him that this was my second cast because my first one got wet. Then he remembered.
He cut off the cast and told me to walk. Timidly, I took a few steps. Everything seemed fine. He told me to walk without fear, so I tried to walk normally and everything still seemed fine. My ankle was yellow, green, and dark purple. The ankle bone was barely visible from the swelling all around. The inside of my leg was swollen higher than the ankle bone.
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| This is the inside of my ankle. Normally there is a bone there. |
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| Still so swollen and colorful... |
My doctor and nurse both assured me that was normal, even after 21 days. He said it is important now to move my foot, but not too much. This way, he said, I'll avoid physical therapy.
I walked to the cashier to pay my bill. It hurt. But my cab came before I had a chance to ask the doctor if it should really hurt this much.
The cab dropped me off at home. All I wanted to do was get out of my house. I considered walking over to the neighborhood next door to buy cheese, but thought that might be pushing it. (Thank God I didn't!)
I could go to the grocery store, I thought. That's easy. I'll drive there, I can lean on the grocery cart if my foot is sore, then I'll just drive back home. No problem.
I was wrong. Just getting out of the garage was tough. Opening and closing the gate was a difficult feat. I can no longer kick the rock that I use to prop open the door. That rock is heavier than I ever realized. I had to bend over and pick up the rock and put it in front of the door.
When I lifted the right side of my body into the car and tried to swing my left side in, I almost cried out in pain. I considered turning around and going back into the house. But opening that gate was so much work. Driving had to be easier.
Driving was fine for the first two blocks. Then I heard popping sounds as I pushed in the clutch. It hurt enough that I wondered if I would make it through the store. But I only needed oatmeal, cat litter and sugar. That's not too much walking. I could do it.
There was no parking in the front row, but a car was leaving in the second row so I waited while the cars behind honked at me. By the time I hobbled into the store, I felt like everyone was watching me, although I'm sure they weren't.
The oatmeal had been moved, but I found it. The cat litter was not in stock. I forgot all about the sugar. My ankle hurt so much, I just wanted to sit down in the middle of the aisle and cry.
I couldn't think of anyone to carry me out of the store and take my car home so I had to keep moving.
I felt like when I used to do sports - when you think you can't take another step, but then you do. And another and another. Finally I found myself at the checkout line.
I noticed I move slower than usual these days. I think it's from being in my bed, away from the hustle and bustle of society. I drive less aggressively. I even signed my name on my credit card receipt more slowly. The bagger asked if she could carry my groceries to my car. She was already down the ramp and in the parking lot before I got to the exit. That time everyone really was looking at us. It was pretty funny.
I walked slowly down the ramp with her waiting. I explained, "My ankle is hurt," lifting my pant leg over my ankle. She freaked out! Her eyes bulged out of her head and she exclaimed, "Siiiii hombre!" In her surprise she responded in a very informal manner which would not normally be acceptable. She said I need to see a doctor. I explained I just came from the doctor and the injury actually happened the day after Christmas. She told me I should not be walking around like that.
The drive home was a killer. I contemplated leaving the car outside the gate and groceries in the car, but I found turkey sausage on sale for half price. It needed to go in the fridge. And it would be easier to carry the food from inside the garage.
Tomorrow was supposed to be the cleaning lady's last day. I'll need her a little longer than I expected.
I sent my boss photos of the monstrosity that is my ankle. She was surprised it was still such a mess and told me to rest as long as I need so it will heal right. Messages have been rolling in from coworkers.
So, my cast is off. But my ankle still hurts. A lot. I will not be going back to work tomorrow. I didn't really expect to, but I kind of hoped... I'm no longer on bed rest but I am still limited to moving around my house. My prayer is that I will be well by the 27th.
