What a week!

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I had so much planned for this week, both at work and at home and have got none of it done.  Why… drum roll… because…

I’ve broken my right leg!

It’s been a week now, I broke it last Thursday afternoon, and it’s only just sinking in properly.

“How did you manage that!” friends have been asking, really easily I reply!  All I was doing was walking the dogs, a stroll along the Greenway, on a bit of uneven ground, my right ankle twisted in, my knee twisted outwards, (I think, I know my leg twisted oddly), I heard a loud crack and felt a sharp pain in my right calf, and the next thing I know, I’m on the floor.

The doctor at the hospital found it odd, but I knew I’d broken my leg.  I’ve heard that cracking sound once before and that was about 3 years ago when my husband broke his shoulder.  It’s not something you forget, so when I heard it, I was sat on the ground thinking, “I’ve broken my leg”.  I hardly dared lift my trouser leg as I had visions of something not nice being underneath.

As it was I lifted the trouser leg and there was nothing to show for the fall, except a fast ballooning ankle.

Of course, I’m about half a mile from home, no mobile, (first time in ages I’ve gone without it as I’d left it on charge), 2 dogs to control (who at this point are off the lead and think I’m playing a game as I’m sat on the floor, so they’re bounding around trying to lick me to death!) and not sure if I can stand.

Not good, but I managed to grab hold of a low tree branch and haul myself back onto my feet.  Surprisingly I could stand and hobble along, so I kept telling myself “I’ve just sprained my ankle” as you do when in denial.

At this point I would like to say very clearly “The youth of today are brilliant!”  I’m back on the main path, in agony and two youngsters, a brother and sister come towards me on their bikes.  Now I know that, like me when I was younger, we tell our children not to talk to strangers.  Thank goodness these two chose to use their common sense and instinct instead of doing as they were told.

I stopped them and explained what had happened, explained I didn’t have my phone and if they had theirs could they possibly make a call for me, so that someone could come and get me?  It turned out they hadn’t go their phones, but they agreed to go back the way they had come (their home is in the opposite direction) and let me lean on their bikes for support.

These two were a real example to us all of how we should help others.  They threw the ball for the dogs, made sure I was OK to walk, took me all the way home and made sure I was OK before going back to their own home.  I told them to make sure they told their parents what had happened and to give them my name and where I lived in case they wanted to check up on me, along with ringing praise that their parents should be rightly proud of them.

So, a phone call to my Dad (hubby was at a job interview, so I wasn’t going to interrupt that!) a trip to the local A&E, X-rays and an astonished Doctor, who had been sure it was my ankle which had sprained or at worst broken, came to confirm that I had broken my leg, the right Fibula (the thin bone which runs up your calf).

Thankfully as this is, apparently, a supporting bone rather than weight bearing, I don’t have to wear a cast, just a leg brace which I can remove when not moving around or in bed (and makes having a bath much easier than with a cast) and I’m off work for 6 weeks!  My busiest time of the year and I can’t go into work and because I have a sick note, I can’t work from home either.  What a nightmare!

Broken Leg 8-6-2013

I’ve always said that exercise is bad for you!

So after a week of doing very little as it’s been really painful at times, I do have some great pain killers! (though if I take the full dose they ‘knock me out’).  I’m slowly getting used to the idea that at the moment I can’t actually do much and that I need to find a way of channeling the frustration about that into something more positive.

So, it’s 20 mins or so movement and an hour sat down recovering – of course everything takes at least twice as long with the leg brace and a pair of crutches in the mix, but I keep telling myself it could have been much worse.  I might have a cast on my leg for instance, or the break could have been much worse, or there may have been no good Samaritans to help me in my time of need.

So – now that my concentration seems to be returning I think I need to begin planning some serious stitching for the next 6 weeks; oh and school breaks up the Friday before I should be back at work, which means in reality, other than a couple of days for exam results in August, I’m actually off work for 12 weeks – I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry at that fact!

Enjoy your stitching, count your blessings and next time you think someone may need your help, please do stop and offer.  You never know how grateful they may be.

Oh and if you have children – remember to praise them, they really are an example to us all!

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