One of the negatives of my brain is that I’m incredibly klutzy. I walk into things, trip over things, and fall on things at least 3 or 4 times a day. Stairs are a nemesis, as are doorways, and cracks in the sidewalk are even worse. I’ve injured my ankles, knees, wrists, shoulders, and back more times than I care to count, though most of the time its not too serious. About 6 years ago now, I tore 3 ligaments in my left ankle while marching in place – I put my foot down wrong, and bam, suddenly, it didn’t take any weight anymore. I should’ve had surgery to fix one of the ligaments, but we decided risks outweighed the rewards, and I just went through months of physical therapy until it was basically passable. And that’s when I had to really stop gymnastics. Every few months, I roll this ankle again, just by taking a misstep. Usually it results in some minor swelling, a few days of uncomfortable walking, and then it gets better and I move on. I roll it and fall at least twice a week – I’ve learned to fall over with my body in order to avoid injury – most of the injury happens when you’re fighting to stay upright – fall along with it, and no harm’s done. 4 years ago, I tore my ankle apart again, walking down the street, and ended up on crutches for 7 weeks while it tried to heal. On the plus side, I can do neat tricks with crutches. And I have super-human upper body strength. And my klutziness usually doesn’t do much more than that.
So yesterday, I was walking home, and I took a slightly different route than normal, because I was sitting next to someone on the bus that I was really REALLY uncomfortable with – they smelled of cigarette smoke, and were leaning over me. EWW. And I was carrying a couple of library textbooks. And me and this curb didn’t quite see eye to eye. And I missed a step down, into a ditch, where my lovely ankle rolled and made a very VERY nasty crunch. I didn’t manage to save both myself and the library books (books took first priority). And it certainly wasn’t going to get me the rest of the way home. It’s now purple, swollen, and majorly unhappy. X-rays yesterday evening showed that there are more bones than there should be in my ankle. And by that, I mean, it’s broken. On the plus side, it doesn’t require surgery. And there’s no obnoxious plaster cast (though it would be fun to have people sign it). I got my big black boot today, and have orders to not put any weight on it at all for a while. Alas, nearly 4 years without being on crutches once is actually a new record for me, I’ll take it. And at least I can take showers and wear real clothes. And whatever knee sock I like under the boot, because the doctor noticed I have tons of them and told me as long as I’m gentle in putting them on, they would work as well as the cotton sleeve he gave me to help keep the inside of the boot clean. Small victories.
At some point, I will write a post about how autism interacts with this particular fix I’m in (visible vs. invisible disability, for one thing), but for the time being, this is just an update post. Klutzes of the world unite