Just a week before my birthday, I broke my ankle. It was 7.30am and I was collecting up the plates from feeding the kitties, and I just slipped off the step. A tiny moment of attention three feet in front of me instead of precisely where I was.
It could have been worse. It could have been my hip or thigh. Even so it was very incapacitating, resulting in needing a wheelchair and lots of help.
So, for over three months now, I’ve been accepting all the help I can get, resting a lot, and learning to be passive rather than active. I learnt what it feels like to feel helpless, to have to wait on others, to have to keep asking. And I learnt about kindness that others show and they efforts they are prepared to give in order to help.
I’ve also got a lot of grazed knuckles as the wheelchair only just fits the doorways!
Thank goodness that the plaster came off before the weather became intolerably hot. I was already at the stage of scratching through the bandages with whatever I could find and reaching down inside the top. Most uncomfortable.
Then of course it’s handling the crutches! What ungainly things they are. Then just one crutch and finally I’m fit to learn how to walk again.
Great physiotherapist in Paphos – thank you Iacovou for all your encouragement, massage and strengthening exercises.
And thank you to everyone who was kind and thoughtful, and to my long-suffering David without whom this would have been so much more difficult.