Sofia and I a few hours before the accident. Those jeans had to be binned because I couldn't take them off after my leg was plastered.
Oh dear. I've just had a look at my last post, and, in the light of what happened a few days after that post, I can see that I had tempted fate by saying that things were good. To which it replied, 'Hmmm, if things are so good, that probably means life is a bit boring right now. So shall we make it more interesting by, say, letting you break a bone? How about an ankle? That wouldn't be so bad, would it?'
So yeah, that's what happened. I fell down the stairs one Sunday afternoon, with Sofia in my arms. I knew as I was falling down that I had broken something because I felt my right foot twist and heard a popping sound. Gross, I know, but I just had to share it with you. I dropped Sofia just as I hit the bottom step. The poor little thing fell face down but immediately sat up screaming at me. I was screaming for Simon to come and help me. Simon, who was painting the lounge, came rushing out into the hallway and wasn't quite sure who to help first. Despite his panic and the wailing noises Sofia and I were making, he managed to phone 999 and three paramedics arrived a few minutes later to sort me out and bundle me off to the A&E. They also checked Sofia but she wasn't hurt at all. That was a big relief!
The fracture didn't turn out to be so bad, so my leg was put in a cast. But my leg did not like being in a cast at all. My foot kept swelling up so I was in more pain a week after the accident. My leg was replastered, but a few days later, my foot swelled up again. Things were not looking good.
The painkillers and the lack of sleep from the pain drove me crazy. And I mean really crazy. I was having several panic attacks each day. If I wasn't panicking, I was crying uncontrollably. Worst of all, I could not eat. Me, the food junkie, unable to eat. I would cook my favourite dishes (cooking was the one house chore I refused to pass on to Simon) to try and whet my appetite, but once the food touched my mouth, I was off it.
Me at a children's party, trying to keep my spirits up with a glass of Pimms. Notice the mad glint in my eyes? That's because my cast was squeezing my heel, and it hurt a lot!
That was it for me. I couldn't take it any longer, so I did some research on alternatives to plaster casts. It turns out that there is an alternative to plaster casts - removable braces. I found a few being sold online in the UK, although they were quite expensive - a hundred pounds for the cheapest. I decided that I'd rather shell out a hundred pounds than endure three more weeks of being in a cast. So I phoned the hospital, in tears, to try and convince the fracture clinic sister to let me use a removable brace. She felt sorry enough for me to give me an early appointment the next day. The consultant immediately said yes and the nice orthopaedic technician told me as she fitted my brace that they had all heard about my crying fit and talked to the consultant about letting me use the brace. How embarrassing. But I don't care, because I've been happy ever since, and now I actually feel like I'm recovering. I've been moving about without my crutches, and tomorrow, I shall see the consultant again. I'm hoping my X-ray results will be good and I'll be allowed to walk without the brace and my crutches.
At a friend's wedding. See how much happier I look?
At the wedding reception, with my human crutch, who looked after the children and me and kept our household from descending into chaos
Needless to say, my kids also kept me from totally losing it. They cheered me up, gave me hugs and helped me out by fetching my crutches (yes, even Sofia) and opening gates and doors for me. Oh, and Sofia and I had lots of little tea parties using her new tea set. I love having a daughter as I get an excuse to play with the toys I enjoyed most when I was a child! But Lucas loves joining in the parties too. In fact, we borrowed the cooker that we use for roasting chicken and baking pizzas and cakes from him!
Sofia makes tea for Baby Doll. The cooker and the washing machine are both Lucas's, bought when he was three.