The Joys of a Broken Ankle

It's been 13 weeks and 2 days since that afternoon when a simple fall ended up with a broken ankle. At the time, I thought, OK 6 weeks to heal, not too bad.  I even imagined all the reading, writing and crocheting I'd get done whilst catching up on TV and drinking bubbles (yes, I lead a super exciting life).

One large flaw in that theory. I'm hopeless at sitting still. Drinking and crutches don't go well together either - mainly because it's impossible to carry a glass without spilling the bubbles. The wheelchair certainly came in handy. As did pockets. And having everything around me on the table.

After 2 weeks, x-rays showed all was going well.  Off with the cast and on with the boot!  It was an exciting day, I could slowly move around.  After a week, the boot was my best friend. Steps were a pain and there was still, well pain.  Swelling around the site - apparently normal. 2 weeks later, pain was worse - maybe I was overdoing it.  CT scan showed a small splinter fracture between ankle and toe.  Fracture itself, looking well lined up.

The magical 6 week mark saw us in Merimbula.  My first naked walk - to the loo.  Did it!  The other highlight that morning - finally being able to have a shower standing up. I had the cleanest arse in town. Doc had said to wean off the boot slowly and to keep wearing it outdoors for the next 2 weeks.  I stuck strictly to those instructions for 4 days and thought "boot be gone."  Yep. No.

7 weeks. Time to start physio.  Maybe better not to rush this. New aim was to be out of the boot when we stood on the Great Wall in China.  By now the boot and I were one. Walking in the boot was pretty easy (except for going down bloody stairs) and around home I could go "naked."

10 weeks and 4 days.  Here we are on the Great Wall in China. Emi, me and the boot.  Oh well, looked pretty steep in parts and I made it up around 200m.  Lots of walking in China, mainly with the boot on and a few attempts without.  After 10 days, sore and swollen.  I'm an idiot.

12 week mark.  It's been 2 days without the boot.  I miss it.  I had a pedicure.  Physio gave me a few more exercises and agreed that the boot could go.  "Build up slowly" as I skipped (sort of) out the door. I'm free, I'm free, I'm free.

And now it has been 13 weeks and 2 days.  It's still sore - some days are better than others. Maybe it's the cold weather (WTF - arthritis), maybe it's old age.  Still can't walk very fast.  Still can't step down with both feet.  Stilettos are out - not that they were ever that in.  Further insult to injury, I've put on 4 more kg.

Patience is not a virtue I have.  Nothing else for it, going to drink more bubbles.  And be more zen like.  6-8 weeks to heal they said.  My arse.  Maybe if I was 6 - 8 year old kid.