6 December 2010 - And the Twit of the Year 2010 goes to............... BOBTHEKELPEEEEEEEEEE!
Yes. Because I was at my work Christmas party on Saturday night. Having a bit of a boogie with my mates. I was outside a decent dinner, a reasonable amount of champagne and a less amount of G&T. Good fun was being had. The very high shoes I was wearing weren't hurting as much as I thought they would, and I hadn't tripped and sprained my ankle. All was well.
Until........
I was dancing. Barefoot. Sedately. I'd already shown all the younger kids my killer moves from 1992, to riotous applause, and I'd acquitted myself well during Nutbush City Limits.
Then disaster struck. I heard a crack, and suddenly realised I couldn't walk. This was not good, not good at all. A friend grabbed some ice, another grabbed a medicinal G&T and a third rescued my shoes and offered to drive me home. It occurred to me that A&E might be a more appropriate place to go. So there we went.
I was quite thankful that Mona Vale is not a happening place at night, as I got seen quickly, and the A&E did not have the rivers of blood and riotous drunks I had been lead to expect. The doctor diagnosed that I'd done something to my achilles tendon and put my leg in a cast. I hobbled back to the car with some antiquated crutches and spent all Sunday in bed, because crutches and me don't go together too well. Today I spent most of the day back at the hospital, getting x-rays and ultrasound to confirm what I already knew. I also got another cast put on.
Of course, it was my right leg, so I can't drive. On the positive side, at least Paul and my mum can cover getting Gemma to and from daycare. But the new cast is not nearly so comfortable as the old cast, and Paul has already practiced rudimentary doctoring by cutting away a chunk of the top so I can bend my leg.
I can't get up the stairs at the front of the house, so I'm effectively housebound. When I got home today, I had to go round the back of the house, assisted by Paul and our 86 year old neighbour. And to top it all off, Paul is at the pub with his cousin, and I'm trying, unsuccessfully, to get Gemma to sleep.
I tell you, Santa had bloody well better get me that MacBook Air I want from Christmas this year!!!
10 December 2010 Being the further adventures of bobthekelpie's achilles tendon....
So I spent the afternoon at the Fracture Clinic of Mona Vale Hospital, sitting in a wheelchair and looking enviously at those who appear to know what to do with crutches. I was in a wheelchair, courtesy of A&E.
And it turns out that I had two options:
a) get surgery and have a cast for 6 weeks or
b) not get surgery, be in a cast for 8 weeks, and have a weakened tendon to which the same accident could occur again.
It does not take any great depth of intelligence to realise that I went for option a.
So I will be having surgery tomorrow morning, hopefully going home tomorrow afternoon, although they could keep me in overnight. If they do keep me in overnight, I sincerely hope that there will be no dementia pensioners trying to gets their keks off in the middle of the ward, while simultaneously taking on the security guards, as happened at my last fun filled stay in Mona Vale when I got cellulitis following an appendectomy. I also hope that I get one of the wards with the beautiful views over Mona Vale Beach and the Pacific, rather than the ones that face the somewhat less alluring prospect of 6 lanes of Pittwater Road. However, only time will tell.
And the MacBook Air will most definitely be arriving as an early present from Santa.
I have gently suggested that a bottle of gin would be an appropriate accompaniment.....
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