August 22nd, 2007

painful

Grounded!

Last night when I went to bed, my ankle had swollen to twice the size it was when it came out of the cast. This morning, the swelling had gone down, but it was still noticeable enough for Rutger, my physiotherapist, to give me a telling off...although he did it in the nicest possible way.

It all comes down to, I suppose, my interpretation of the phrase 'take it easy' my medical advisors like to bandy about so much. Why can't they just tell me to 'stay off it', if that's what they mean?

The technician responsible for putting people in and cutting them free of their casts gasped when he saw what I'd done to his handiwork. I'd almost completely worn away the plaster sole on my cast. I didn't like to wear the protective shoe indoors; and because it was a walking cast, I walked with it. But I didn't go out all that much, and if I did, I didn't go far!

So when I arrived for my appointment at the practice, Rutger was amazed to see me walking (fairly) normally, like I hadn't just come out of a cast. But it's been 24 hours! He should have seen me yesterday, when I was walking home from the hospital. I went at a snail's pace, and had difficulty controlling and coordinating my steps. He tells me I ought to have taken a cab, but it was such a fine day and I was curious to see what I could do. He tells me I'm pushing it; I tell him I'm merely testing my limits.

Because he's made me promise to rest it for the next 5 days, I came home without making the detour to the hardware store I'd had in mind. I'd wanted to buy paint and do the window frames, but he doesn't want me climbing up and down ladders yet. He's a spoilsport, but he means well.