The six weeks is over – the bone is officially healed.
I was given the news after a one-hour-45-minute wait, during which time I’d met a prison officer who’d broken his arm in two places falling downstairs at home (“my daughters help me”) and a carer who’d smashed both his elbows out walking his golden Labrador when she spooked and pulled him to the floor (“Lucy hasn’t left my side since”).
I was brushing a woman’s hair and fastening her pony-tail when I was called over – she couldn’t reach around and neither could her mother (“C’mon, this lady here’ll do it”).
Mr Bhalla, who examined me, explained I had “good flexion”.
How did he know the bone was healed?
“You ran in here”.
Apparently no physiotherapy is necessary as my recovery is good – and walking will do the trick.
The shoe can come off – good news – now I just need to find some suitable ceremony for dispersing with it or maybe I could make it into some Modern Art installation?
What about exercise? Well, predictably, the high-impact ones, the ones that cost the least money to do – ie running and Guerrilla training – will have to wait another six weeks (“It’s three months after a fracture”).
The pay-in-advance ones – swimming, cycling, cross-training, spinning etc – they’re all fine.
Funny how getting injured didn’t automatically make me any better-off financially to make these adjustments!
Yoga? Fine as long as I don’t stretch the foot, put all my weight on it.
Will the bone be more vulnerable? He doesn’t see any reason for arthritis.
It was good to see the original X-rays (on the computer screen) – especially with the realisation that this time the clean oblique break shown in them had healed.
Mr Bhalla explained the fracture was not near the joint and that, apparently, is “good”.
Things are changing, blossoms on the trees, the sun’s out – a contrast from the filthy coldness I contended with when first injured.
My foot’s changed too – healing happens.
Now join me as I continue towards my running goal.