Being an antihero, I’m getting used to the occupational hazards involved in my line of work. As I was rescuing a group of oysters from the Walrus, I found myself caught up in a break-dance battle with the nefarious walrus himself. Obviously I won, but not before my foot got shucked.
It took me a week to get an appointment at the ortho clinic, despite hero status. My doctor encouraged me to stay off of my feet, and recommended that I use crutches or a walker to keep weight off of it if I absolutely needed to be up and about. Uh huh. I fractured one of the metatarsals in my other foot a couple of years ago and was told to stay off of it for a minimum of 3 weeks, then proceeded to go on a week long vacation to Williamsburg with manchild and his family which involved hours of daily walking. I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this. If I can tolerate walking, I’m going to do it.
Alright, so that all ended today. I’m to cease all weight-bearing activities for 3 whole weeks, and then I get to wear a boot for 8 weeks. I do not like the boot. I was already in the boot. I consider myself to be over the boot. I told Dr. H this, to which he replied, “tough shit”. At least the man speaks my language. He also put in another referral for a bone density scan and urged me to complete this one, because again, I should not have broken that particular bone due to it’s density in relation to the rest of the bones in the foot. Had I broken a metatarsal, it wouldn’t be as concerning. Me? I’m not concerned. I’m pissed off.
My quandary is do I try to use crutches again? Or do I rent a wheelchair for a month so I don’t kill myself whilst attempting to precariously swing myself around with two sticks? I think I already know the answer. For now, it’s office chairs for me.
Manchild said we’ll hit the medical supply store to see if they’ve got a cheap rollator, and then it’s oysters for dinner. Did I say antihero? I meant supervillian. 😉