The Legacy of the Broken Foot

This blog has become a bit of an eternal pit of despair.

So let's lighten the mood.

I broke my foot.

Well, that started well.

Last Wednesday I was working through my lunch break at the city theatre. I was in charge of opening some side doors of theatre to let local elementary students, who had come to watch a play, out to the toilets. The play itself was a bit of a mess but we'll leave that story untouched for now.

So just before the play was about to end myself and an older lady who works with me in the office headed down the oddly spaced stairs in pitch black darkness to open the doors when WHOOPS I miss a step, presumably thinking I was already at the door, and roll my ankle before landing dead on target, right on top of it.

At this point I was sitting on the floor next to a large number of ES students in complete shock thinking of how loud my landing must have sounded. I began to stand up when S#&% my ankle buckles. I scramble for the handrail on the wall beside me only to find that there isn't one.... GREAT DESIGN. So I cling to whatever wall can hold me and shuffle down the last few stairs with my co-worker strolling along beside me. I burst my way through the heavy theatre doors and out into the open.

There is still no handrail and only an open space before the first available chair to plant myself on. My co-worker mutters beside me about it being a 'little fall' and 'probably not that bad' which makes me want to slap her but I also think that it's probably not broken as I'm sure it would hurt a lot worse if it was.

I finally hop across the floor to the closest seat to find the cast of the play standing in their positions outside the front doors to wave farewell to the students... tears streaming down my face, I'm sure I would be a fantastic farewell gift. While a couple other co-workers came to join me I spent a few minutes wiping up tears and smiling and occasionally waving to the concerned faces of children exiting the theatre.

Once all the students had left a wheelchair was brought to me while my co-workers suggested a photo op. Tears continued to fall as I fake laughed at their apparent lack of empathy. Other co-workers had thankfully called the office and asked someone to drive a car down to the theatre to pick me up and take me back to work (I had a meeting at 13.00) but, to my relief, it was decided a doctor was a better destination. Luckily there is a massive hospital right next to our office building. One of my co-workers run over to tell them of my predicament and... they turned us away. Too many operations meaning that there were no doctors left.

BUT... WHAT?! Your radiographers do operations too? Your nurses are all in the operations and there's not a single person who can place ice on a foot?! Do emergencies not happen in the perfect land of Japan?!?!

But wait there's more.

Another hospital had the same reaction but my co-workers were not phased. There are a number of doctors in the area and surely one of them would be able to check my foot. But then we realised... most businesses close on Wednesday. Sure enough a few phone calls later all the nearest doctors were closed. Except one, Hachiya-san.

A little further away than ideal but still close enough to be convenient we headed over to their clinic to get some x-rays done.

My poor male colleague had to try and push me up the ramp to the clinic, me being twice his size, but thankfully this time there WAS a handrail and I pulled along with him.

Once in the clinic, no one spoke to me directly. All focus on the two Japanese people accompanying me. After all this trouble I was thinking, let's hope there is a break otherwise I will be deemed the most melodramatic person in the office. Sash and crown ceremony included.

I sat awkwardly on the x-ray table as they twisted and turned my foot and then was left there with no word on what to do next. Then from the room behind me I could hear 'oh, it's a fracture. What do you call fracture in English? Hold on I'll look it up.' I appreciate the translation but right now I'd just like to sort the foot out and go home.

5minutes later they let me off the cold, hard x-ray table and put me back in the wheelchair. They spun me into the doctor's room and the doctor began a 20minute spiel on how 'you can see it in this x-ray but not in this one', 'if we turn the foot here we can see it but if we go back to this one, you can't!' like it was some miracle illusion. I was just thinking about what this would mean for my trip to Hawaii next week. By this time my co-workers had entered the consultation room behind me unannounced or invited and were also hearing all about the mysterious disappearing fracture.

Then, after showing a little interest in the fracture, the doctor went and searched his own name for x-rays and found his foot, with a MUCH worse fracture, and began explaining how much it hurt. Surprisingly, my mind was still on the pain in my foot and Hawaii.

They then took me into another room and sat me on a bed where they prepared a removable cast that could be wrapped up in bandages to keep it together where it opened like a book otherwise. I considered the possibility of a moon boot until I tried to describe it and had the circle conversation as follows;

'You mean a plaster cast?'

'No, no. It's like a big hard boot you wear and it sets the foot in the right position.'

'Yes, yes. A plaster cast.'

'No, I mean, it's removable and you just strap it on.'

'Hmmmm.... like a plaster cast'

I began doubting myself, like maybe moon boots were a creation of my own mind to let myself believe I could still swim in a weeks time. Internet searches later confirmed my sanity.

So after chatting to my doctors they told me to check in tomorrow and the next day to check the swelling.

I was then taken all the way back to work where I continued on doing overtime and explaining what happened to every single person who saw the crutches and confirming that 'yes, it hurts'.

The next day I went in to work in the morning via the generous offer of a lift from a co-worker (they really are lovely people no matter what I say) before bailing at around 10am due to general exhaustion and pain. There is however, no way to get to work other than car, walk or bike so I'm a little marooned in my small apartment but I do live downtown so if I can pad up my armpits enough I can get to a cafe or pharmacy if need be.

In the afternoon, I went to the doctors where they undid my wrappings and then did them up again before telling me to come again tomorrow. Not exactly sure what happened there. I'm pretty sure my doctor and nurse are telepathic because they only spoke 2 words the entire 2minute consultation.

I went into a panic the rest of the day before my next appointment because I was terrified they would ignore me again and put on a plaster cast. I devised ways of removing the plaster cast myself in the back of my mind along with the appropriate excuses (pushed into a pool and whatnot).

When I arrived the next day at the clinic I went over in my mind the words for blood clot and health risk and as I entered the room where all the plaster cast supplies were prepared I spluttered out a 'what do I do?' and 'blood clot?!?' and 'I'm so sorry' while two nurses and a doctor stared at me. One nurse was visibly annoyed and I'm pretty sure had it just been her and my rather push-over doctor I would be in a cast right now but the other nurse smiled and thanked me for voicing my concerns while the doctor rushed back to his computer and took his time to go over what I had just said before agreeing with the nice nurse that I can't have a cast on. The angry nurse simply gathered all the materials in front of me and eyed me as she rushed to put them back in the cabinet. I apologised as often and as Japanese-like as I could manage.

Wrapping up my leg again and sending me on my way I left the clinic with the soothing thought that at least I could swim on the expensive trip I had been planning for months. Really all I wanted to do anyway... and maybe a pedicure.

So now I'm back at work getting things ready for my trip away although my passion for getting things done has been severely damaged as I look at the recommendation by the doctor to take a month off. Wishful thinking, Mr. Doctor, this is Japan.

Sorry for the long post but I wanted to get it all done before I forget. I hope you see the humour in the situation because, as I told a co-worker, 'If I don't laugh at all of this, I'll cry'.