I wouldn’t consider myself overly clumsy. I mean, I occasionally I’ll trip over something that I didn’t see in my way. Bump into chairs, benches, walls, etc. But I usually am aware that I’ve done said clumsy thing.
So what, exactly, did I do to break a bone in my foot? Your guess is as good as mine, because I haven’t done any of those clumsy things in the past two weeks (which is roughly when my foot started hurting). Nope. No tripping over something, no banging my foot into the bed frame, no kicking my husband in my sleep (I don’t think 😉 ) One of life’s great mysteries, I guess.
My first fractured bone has been an interesting experience. It started with very mild pain when I walked (mild enough that the day after the pain started I was wearing 2-inch heels to a work party for a few hours), and gradually increased until I was limping at work and fumbling around the apartment when I was at home. So far I’ve only missed one day of work, and that was largely because I knew I was “extra” staff that day so I didn’t feel guilty about calling in. Otherwise? Faithfully at work, walking around the office like it was no big deal.
Logically I know that different breaks cause different amounts of pain, but for my first time breaking a bone I’m unimpressed. I thought a broken bone was something that knocked you flat out, having you call the doctor ASAP as soon as you were in agony. That’s how it always is on TV, at least (until the prop/costume departments give the actor a sling or fake brace–then it’s back to life as normal apparently). Shouldn’t I have been, like, in enough pain to notice when the potential injury happened?
It’s possible I have a stress fracture, which is usually (according to a brief and lazy Google search) caused by overuse and/or repetitive action. Like with runners and athletes. Oh, the irony. I’m more inclined to believe it’s due to my excess weight, which makes me even more determined to lose some of it. Salads or fresh fruit/veggie juices for me at lunch. A few bites for breakfast to get my motor kick-started. After I finish the pizza I ordered last night.
Well, what was I supposed to do? I wasn’t supposed to be walking/driving. Immobilization: that’s my order for the next few days until I have the appointment with a podiatrist. Fingers crossed that this is all the restriction I have. I’ve got to work. No options there. Stress fractures are usually (according to my brief and lazy Google search) minor, so I should be able to work–right? I damn well better be able to work.
I guess that’s about it. I’m going to be bored as hell with the restrictions, and I’m going to be frustrated as hell that I can’t drive. Yep. Right foot fracture. When I screw up, I go all out. Time to start arranging rides with coworkers on days when my husband can’t take me to work. Also time to learn how to walk up and down stairs with this stupid boot. Lucky me to have a second floor apartment.