A Missed Step

I fell...48 days ago.
Call it a misstep or a missed step...it's definitely seemed like a mishap (considering that I still am yet to be able to walk again)

I am not going to do anything philosophical about this...just going to write a recount.
So that is just going to be a simple record so that I will be able to remember and laugh about this in future.

I had a root canal operation done that morning. Dr Poh had 'happily' given me 8 jabs...cos somehow, he had to remove parts of the jawbone...and the usual dosage of anesthetic was not enough to numb my senses.  I supposed that 2 hour mini op was ok...but I guess, I did not quite hear what he had warned me about the possible side effects.

Iffah had wanted to eat bruschetta for lunch, and I promised to cook for her. So off I went to Tampines,(albeit a little dazed), and did my usual grocery shopping.  I had received a call from dad who wanted to pick me up, so I waited at the curb.  In the daze and excitment, I missed my footing, and tumbled.

I can't remember much:- all I knew was someone asked if I was ok...and I mumbled something about being afraid that my cans were rolling away. I knew that mum and Akmal came to me, and I was still more interested in picking up my groceries. It was when I could no longer fit into my sandal that I saw the ankle 'elephanting'...er swelling up that the pain hit me.

Now...I react strangely to fear and pain. I laugh in times like these....and so, in the car, as I was trying to keep my sanity because of the pain, I started giggling. By the time I reached Changi General Hospital, I was a mess.  The ankle had ballooned, and the attendant was trying to figure out if I had been sent to the right hospital.

I hate hospitals...but it was a strange experience being there, because a few days earlier, I was at the hospital since Zafran was sent there from Tekong(...and that folks, is a different story altogether). So I was aware of the loooooooooooooooong wait...but a fractured ankle, is no joke.  Part of me, wanted so badly to curse and swear...for I finally understood why some people resort to that....as an outlet.

I remember being wheeled in and out of places...and wanting so badly to go to the toilet...I think of those times as 'hellish'.....but finally, after trying to get me to place my foot on the ground, the doc at the A&E decided to make me wear a 'backslab'

A backslab is a half-cast...and so you can imagine how whacked out my centre of gravity became.
Stairs....became my greatest enemy. I got a pair of crutches, but came so dangerously close to breaking many other bones in the process, that I resorted to using a walker.  While the 2 weeks 'hospitalisation leave' seems like a welcoming respite, let me tell you that is effectively a jail term.  I was confined to the bed most of the time, and even simple things like bathing can become a chore....and when you have a weak bladder, hopping to the toilet made me wish sometimes that I could use a bedpan instead.

The backslab gave way to a fibreglass bright pink cast...and this was when the real torture began. If you fracture your ankle, it means that the ligaments and tendons would have been pulled or strained too. If circulation is poor, the ankle will swell, and the cast gets tight and uncomfortable.  Trying to ease the itch is also a torture...until I found a solution - to use a very long chopstick to scratch at unreachable places.

My moods...became bad...I was grumpy, uncomfortable, and the frustration grew daily. I have not been much of a TV person, and somehow, I lost my appetite for reading. Sitting in bed for long hours is actually quite horrible..you develop aches everywhere.  But I must say that I became a little bit more understanding of why certain bedridden elderly become so snappy. I am grateful that I still had full use of my other faculties.

I became an expert at hopping, and moving up and down with the stairs on my behind.  My right leg had developed muscles I never thought possible; and while I was afraid that my right knee would give way, it so far gave me problems at night....The sleep has still got to be induced by valium and other pain killers.

Anyway, the days dragged by, and I counted them by looking forward to Zafran's return from camp.
Then came the day for the pink cast to come off: I had happily thought that I could walk again.  Now, the cutting of the cast was another whole experience. I had freaked out for several nights, because I dreamt that the nurse would accidently saw my foot. So when I went in, I was frightened...Yup...and when I am scared...I would laugh too.

So there again, a hysterical mess...until the attendant was rather nervous. I had laughed so much that I think he would indeed have done a bad job....but that laughter was not enough to help me walk again.  The news was that, I would next have to be in a splint.

A splint is another moulded plastic that they made me wear (so that I would not walk). It is so horrible, being told to keep the foot off...Anyway, when the cast came off, I did get to see the sprained foot in its majestic glory of black, blue and green bruises. I knew that there was no way that the leg would have recovered.

Last year, I missed my holidays because of school work....so my heart sank at the realisation of another holiday break down the drain. It was back to the bed.  But I decided to do something...I borrowed the wheelchair from the school...so that I could at least go around if there were people who were willing to push me around.  So thanks to my sis, I did get to go out to IKEA, airport, and made a short trip to Bukit Indah in JB. Small blessings indeed.

At one point, I got very bored of my house arrest.  The poor kids too suffered since they did not get to go out much, and really missed out on many wonderful movies that we had wanted to watch. I decided to take stock of the situation by wanting to go to a specialist to buy special boots that would help me in the rehabilitation process.  God is great. My hubby managed to get the aircast boots which was given to him by a cousin who previously fractured an ankle too.

So what is left now?
The swelling has gone down (and thanks to QR for recommending me TCM) and the foot is able to rest on the ground. However, each time I tried to put weight on it, there will be shooting pains...which means that the ligaments have not recovered.  I have forced myself to go to school...something which takes the boredom away; though I am still very hampered in many ways.

What are the learning points?
Plenty.
One is to be grateful that I can still use the other parts of my body.
I have a supportive family who gave me lots of encouragement and comfort
I have been able to catch up with my quranic readings.

I supposed I am on the road to recovery.  It will be slow. I have to accept that.  But Allah has given me so many blessings from the accident.
I hope that I will still remain patient. Insyallah, I will walk normally again ...soon