I am WALKING on TWO feet.
Just.
And believe me, this was LONG over due. Not at least because the novelty had most certainly worn off for pretty much everyone; the cups of TEAS viciously depleted after the first month. Visitors were farther and fewer between each week. The occasional chocolate bar was NO WHERE in sight.
Everyone was FANTASTIC at putting up with me though; especially my housemates!
For one week I was was walking on my big support boot which was tricky, and very SCARY at first.
Being told to walk on a foot I had managed to go two whole months trying to IGNORE even existed was a challenge.
Unfortunately, that period of enduring turmoil is TOO easily forgot. I am slightly embarrassed at how quickly I have started to take my ankle back for granted. Although I do have a REMINDER that for all that time moaning I have a lot more work still to put in:
My gangster LIMP!! After I have been sat down for a while or sat on my foot (no, I shouldn't be doing that) and try to get up, a funny little gait emerges. I have only really become fully aware of it's impact since I've come back to London.
There are A LOT of people who also seem to have had recent ankle surgery, though they seem to attract a lot more attention from the POLICE and anxious passers by than I do... Maybe they are genuinely concerned for there well being, and their apparent LACK of physical STABILITY... Though I am unsure how many of them are conveying a TRUE injury. I have considered telling them that if they were to secure their belt a little TIGHTER they may find it easier to keep a more upright walking position...
This does, however, make me very conscience to CORRECT my walking and not be a lazy patient. I don't want to start being conversed to by the police; I am a very BUSY person!!
SO, now that I am nearly back to my old self, here a couple of final things I wont MISS having to deal with:
- Having to play Fat or Pregnant on the bus when searching for a seat. AWKWARD!
- Regret having done my hair perfectly to go out in, then realising my crutches were NOT NEARBY, meaning that the hopping inevitably made my hair look like a brain dead BIRD had tried to make a NEST out of it. Devastating.
- I will no longer put the FEAR of a MUTANT Zebedee into my housemates when 'travelling' to the bathroom in the middle of the night/ first thing in the morning. I'd be surprised if I didn't wake the NEIGHBOURS!
Beware! I am OUT and ABOUT and very happy to be so!! If I spot you in the OPEN I may be over excited or enthusiastic. Just smile, NOD and talk about the weather.
THANKS
C xxx
