Cleared for take-off?

I’m discharged.

X-ray from six weeks ago – fifth metatarsal fracture clearly visible

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”.

Long waits are inevitable at the bone clinic

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?

Gettin’ a groove on – but it’ll be another six weeks before I can run again

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.

Mistaken Identity

I need to summon my inner super-hero

If one more person refers to me hobbling I will scream. Whatever happened to limping?

A broken bone in my foot has catapulted me to OAP status. (What next, incontinence pads?)

Bear with me. I’m wondering if I’m alone in all this – and I know I’m not! (And more to the point, it’s hardly life-threatening).

I feel as though I have positively morphed from an independent person who could influence their identity through exercise to what I perceive as a flabby invalid to whom the very option of exercise is denied.

I don’t want to look like this!

At what point was the moment of transition? The moment the fracture actually happened? Or the actual diagnosis?

Was the huge-breasted, flabby-armed, big-bellied entity I dread becoming born in the snap of the bone?

I was in denial until diagnosis.

It came hours after being X-rayed in A&E – initially in the form of an apologetic-looking nurse calling my name and telling me I needed “a shoe”.

Carrie Bradshaw wouldn’t like the latest addition to my footwear collection

A doctor met me in the corridor and took me to a consulting room where she showed me the X-ray – and the fracture.

The good news was I didn’t need a plaster-cast – just the goddamned shoe – which, bulky and OAP-like, was velcroe’d on.

Now I’m no Carrie Bradshaw – but the latest addition to my footwear collection is nothing short of hideous.

Of course there’s always the option of not wearing it all. I go through phases where I kid myself that, because my boots match, the fracture never happened.

Therapeutic shoe similar to mine – French manicure optional

In more accepting moments, there are still problems.

After all, the shoe I wear to the office on my healthy foot actually has a thinner sole than the one on my injured one. (Heels are definitely out).

So – unevenly shod – I’m more likely to limp anyway!

Or am limping because I’m wearing a therapeutic shoe which everyone can see?  Indeed I often feel duty-bound to do so for that very reason!

This patient needs patience

And the latest news? Apparently we’re all too sedentary – “sitting is the new smoking” and “the couch potato culture has spread to the workplace”.

Standing up will at least use up some calories.

Well, normally I’d welcome a story like this – but injury means a nice little calorie-burner like standing up for longer periods of time is not really an option for me.

Read the article here

And I’d like to think the foot will heal at some point so I can help Get Britain Standing  (Have a go at their Sitting Calculator – I wouldn’t dare!)