Flatpack attack

Just dropped a 100 lb box on my foot. There are more fun things to have done.

4/23, 3pm: Just tried to run a short errand. Foot + shoe + mobility = stunningly not. NYC friends: orthopedist recommendations please. Someone good, Manhattan/Brooklyn, x-rays in the office if possible and also someone who is inclined to pin rather than cast if it’s broken. I’d like to keep mobile.

4/25, 6am: Cancellation at a good doctor’s and I win the emergency list lottery. This afternoon I will know whether the foot’s broken or only bruised in which case I will be free to kick back analgesics and be non-sensible. Yes. (Warning, if I wind up on crutches I shall complain.) Also yesterday 3 friends came over and we failed to assemble a wardrobe but I had a very sweet evening.

4/25 2pm: Don’t quote me but it’s something like I’ve broken the outside of a bone (1st metatarsal) and if I don’t behave myself and stay off it — as little walking as possible, no dance — it can easily break and if I do behave myself it’s only a week or 2 healing. I’ve to go back next week as the doctor doesn’t trust me to behave (man has a lot of dancers in his practice). But I will be good. I stocked up on supplies while I was out anyway and am now a vegetable.

5/8, 1pm: Weight off my feet be damned. I’m cleaning. I can’t help myself.

5/16, 7:45pm: They said this morning at physio I could try dancing for 15 mins or so. Once more into the breech.

5/18, 4:45pm: Vaguely wondering why FB picked a Friday for its IPO, also why I settled into the sofa with an ice pack on my foot without putting chocolate within reach first…

5/26, 9pm: Long writing day. Must dance to get the kinks out of my back. Will know after whether it’s sensible or not.

25 mins of dance without leaving out too much stuff. I am *in* my body for the first time since the accident. About ready to cry with relief. Hoping it doesn’t hurt too much in the morning. And now, an icepack.

5/27, 5:30pm: Waiting to start dance practice. postponed first because someone was practicing — doing improv — on trumpet, on the other side of the courtyard and I couldn’t disrupt that music. and now, two breaths after he stopped, the birds have started singing as if they, too, were waiting. (Yes, it was a he. Musical voice has gender.)

Wobbly moving on and thru the ball of the injured foot (don’t ever wrestle with 100 lb flatpacks and lose), and seriously shimmy impaired. A few moments of pain. but I’m dancing again. 25 mins.

Tell me all about it...