When someone says “The Worst Part is Over” you know its bad. Especially, when they keep having to remind you of it.
We get to the hospital at about 8:00p.m. (after driving on what proved then to apparently be very very bumpy roads, which I think the town should invest in getting fixed), I was told “The Worst Part is Over” by my friend.
I got a wheelchair and we waited in the waiting room, (But we were here, so “The Worst Part is Over”) sandwiched between a girl throwing up and a guy bleeding from his head, fair enough.
We get called into another smaller waiting room.
And then another smaller one yet. As the rooms get smaller the anticipation was mounting, or was that my ankle with its own heart beat? Doesn’t matter.
Then just when I was *so* close to getting to see the doctor, the grumpy nurse pushed my friend from driving my wheelchair and DROVE MY ANKLE INTO THE CORNER OF THE WALL.
!!!!
RIGHT?
it wasn't even just bumped into it, like, ‘Oopsie, no big deal’
SHE GOT MY ANKLE CAUGHT ON THE CORNER OF THE WALL AND KEPT DRIVING THAT THING LIKE A CRAZY WOMEN.
I burst into tears, it hurt more than actually breaking it.
To say the lease she avoided me the rest of the night.
My friends tried to help me see the humor in it all.
Because NOW the worst part SURLY HAD to be over.
Well the doctor sees me for a few seconds, pokes at it and says that he needed an MRI, but they already shut down the machines and didn’t want to have to start them up again so I would only be getting an X-ray.
(He didn’t want to start the machines???? Yeah, um. last time I checked I didn’t want to break my ankle. Tough Cookies!)
Lets skip the description of pain and the tears and sum this part up in a sentence: HAVING TO MOVE YOUR ANKLE WHEN IT IS BROKEN, HURTS LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER.
This time, when he said “The Worst Part is Over” it I wanted to believe that it was true. BUT THEN...
The doctor said I needed it in another split, but my pants might be a problem.
WHAA???
Yeah, guess what. Fashion is stupid. Fads are Stupid. Let me give you a guess what I choose to wear that stupid stupid day.
SKINNY JEGGINGS.
the most over priced tightest ass things EVER.
My ankle was SO swollen and I needed the splint. He gave me 3 options.
OPTION NUMBER ONE:
- Put the Splint OVER my pants and NOT BE ABLE TO SHOWER/CHANGE THEM FOR A WEEK.
To Which I Responded Appropriately With:
“What the Shit! Are you Shitting me???”
OPTION NUMBER TWO:
- Cut off the Pants
To Which I Responded Appropriately With:
“Um. No. Buying these pants made me poor.”
OPTION NUMBER THREE:
- Somehow take off the Pants and Wear a Gown Home
To Which I Responded Appropriately With:
*Death Stare at Friends as They Laugh*
(He said the worst part was over !!)
I took option number three, because I was delirious with pain and still had the same stupid thoughts floating around in my head that I had when I first decided to jump down those stupid stairs.
My friend had to help me edge the pants off inch by inch very carefully while I was lying down in the doctors office. The nurse gave me a gown and then was advised to take these two white pills, (I was a bit weary about taking them because regular tylonals knock me out) but she told me to take them because “I was going to need it”.
Yeah.
The doctor comes in and starts MOVING MY BLOODY ANKLE.
I’m uncontrollably sobbing, swearing and saying sorry.
He tells me that he has to “straighten out my foot because its crooked, its totally deformed”
Then (in my crazy state of pain) I try convincing him that “it always looks like that” any straightening wouldn’t be necessary.
After a few minutes of swatting his hands away, he gets hold of me and cracks it back.
ouch!
Then he sent us on our way. And thats when the pain pills kicked in and knocked me out. :)
The worst part at this point, was for sure not over, but already things were starting to get better, you just had to look at the big picture. :)
And that, my children, is how to break yourself with ease and sheer stupidity
:D
(funny, this started out as a fairy tale thing and then kinda had elements of a 'how to'...
meh.
:D
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