With support comes strength

20/04/2014

It was dark.

I was rushing.
Mind too pre-occupied with unbalanced accounts.
All of a sudden, 

As I skipped high above,
I felt myself plunging downwards.

The next minute,
half of me was sprawled on the floor.
My ankle was hideously twisted,

my jeans had a big gash on it,
the flesh beneath and palms scrapped bare.

I was in a state of shock.
My phone was strewn to one corner of the pavement.
I looked around. There was no one.
I started perspiring because of the pain.
I glanced towards the direction that I came from.
Would anyone come out any time soon?
Slowly, I closed the gap between my legs.
The process was excruciatingly energy consuming.

A car passed by.
I was slightly dizzy. And teary.
It hurt quite a bit.
The feeling of aloneness left me even more vulnerable.
Luckily, one of my friends was waiting for me to cross the road.
And crossed the flower bushes to see why I went missing.
 I was found on the floor.

I was driven back home with a bag full of ice.
A few hours went by.
I sent a text to my brother who is experienced with twisted ankles.
And waited for a reply.
Googled emergency aids to do in an event like this.
However, my ankle continued to swell at an alarming rate.
I was dragged to the hospital.

The wait there was long.
I was at the bottom of the triage list and had to be put on hold for a few hours.
An X-ray was done after me relenting to my health
and ignoring the fact that my budget was going to be blown.
No major bones were broken.
The radiologist was supposed to come back to me for my results in a few days time.
I went back with a prescription for paracetamol to contain the pain and a pair of crutches.
The nurse Marlene is a really caring person.

I was on panadol for about three days.
My ankle looked like a bloated pig foot
that fell into a bucket filled with rainbow paint.
It was blue, green, brown, red, purple, black, yellow, green.
I could feel it becoming stiff and tried to do the 'trace the alphabet' exercise.
I thought I was doing good.
Too many days passed that I was convinced that the hospital forgot about me.
I had to call the radiologist to confirm about my x-ray results.
Luckily there was no broken bones.

People from the place I am staying
showered me with attention and care, food and love.
Someone got a person to massage my leg on the second day.
I think it made my condition worse though.
But I do not know how to say no to caring people.
So I kept quiet and sobbed in pain when I was being massaged.

My ankle was not getting better.
My lecturers wanted a medical certificate for my leave. 

I was stressed out.
I made an appointment with the clinic in uni.
My assistant warden dropped me off.
I hopped along school with my friend and got my foot checked.
The doctor had to call the hospital's general line twice 

to obtain my X-ray diagnosis.

I find the healthcare system in Australia 

to be very disparate and ineffective.

The doctor said: You're in a pretty bad condition.
You're sore all over. 

I can't do anything for you now.
You should go to the physiotherapist first

and then come back in a week
for me to issue you a referral

to get a MRI scan if it's not better then.
I was given Advil, an anti-inflammatory medicine 

and a smaller tubigrip to compress my ankle.

Subsequently, I made an appointment with the physiotherapist in uni.
I had a two hour gap that suited me fine.
I somehow managed to hobble over
quite a distance in half an hour.
And waited. And felt sad. And lonely.
Adding to that, I was also sleep deprived.
I had not been able to sleep for three days then because of the pain.
Panadol just did not work any more.

I did not have the mood to study for my test 

that I was planning to sit for later in the day.

I went for my session and was told that if I do not get better by this week,
then it might mean that the ligament joining my leg bone 

to my ankle (AITFL) was torn,
and that would require surgery.
That brought my day to its lowest point.

What more, my ankle was already in a plantar flexion position.
The term refers to a stiff ankle that cannot be straightened to a 90 degree position.
I sat there in the clinic, messaging people. 

I gave a ring to my lecturer intending to ask him about the test.

I was not up for it. 

He picked up on the second ring and told me to sit for it.
I was instructed to hobble over to his far away office.
And I did. 

He felt bad when he saw that I was not lying.

I did my exercises religiously every morning and night.
I wanted to get my ankle back.
I tried and tried but it would not straighten itself.
I had to concentrate so much to ignore the pain, even with the painkillers.

The 'pull your leg forward with a towel exercise' was much easier than the other.
I had to try to ground my bad foot to the floor for five seconds, thirty times each day.
It hurt lots. I cried many times in my room. I was out of breath by ten counts. 

Caring people were the source of my strength.
Especially when I did not know the condition of my ankle.
I did not want to undergo surgery.
I was unsure how long I would be on crutches
if I had to do it.
I recalled how I told myself that
I would not be on crutches again
after the meniscus tear that I had five years back.
But life happens.
I missed numerous people. I was cared for by many too.
I felt blessed.

I went back to the physiotherapist on Friday and 

was still unable to do anything with my ankle.
He suggested that I go for a MRI scan.
I called the clinic up and was notified that my doctor was away.
The clinic was booked full until next week.
I could not wait and got the physiotherapist to give me a referral letter instead.
An education attache sent me to the imaging centre.
It was quick. 

I waited for a few hours until I called my physiotherapist 

for the breakdown of my results. 

Good news was that I did not need to go for surgery.
Bad news was that I ruptured one of my ankle ligaments,
had a major tear or ruptured another one,
moderately tore my tendon ligaments, 

sprained two others and had a whole lot of bone swelling all over.
Mind you,
this was a report after two weeks from the incident.
My physiotherapist sounded apologetic enough 

for treating me roughly earlier on.

Ruptured?! I hid myself in the room.
I panicked. It means that I tore my ligaments completely.
How were they going to heal back to their normal state?
I would not be able to run like usual.
I would need to hobble slowly for a very long time.
I would probably trouble people lots.

Ruptured. Completely torn. 

I got scared.
I stared into space for some time. 

Wept into my pillow.
I set a time to compose myself before dinner.
There was an hour and a half of allowance time for me to be sad.
One of my friends spotted the teary me.
I put on my positive hat and numbed my thoughts.

Over the days,
I tried to read about tears and ankle damages.
I winced every time I looked through the articles.
Life was not too colourful then.
I did not skip my exercises.
They were supposed to make me better.

I became reliant on others for my stuff.

That was so unlike me but my movements were restricted.
My leg throbbed and tugged each time it was moved because
the swell in my foot was affecting my tendons.
I iced it more and elevated it. It helped tremendously.

I was scared. Still am. 

I've gotten better over the weeks. 

My progress has impressed the physiotherapist.

My friend sent me to school this week.
I have lots to catch up on.

One of my tutor refused to give me tutorial answers 

because she thinks that it would be unfair to other students.

Weird.

I can take baby steps now. 

My ankle still vibrates on its own if it's not taped.

But that's to be expected of. 

After all, my rubber bands have been cut apart.

I have to keep reminding myself to not overexert myself.

The other day, my foot was so warm for a very long time.

Even after me icing it with my cold pack. 

I feel sorry for troubling people
but they do not seem to mind.

I am thankful for them.

I am grateful to have my family.

I am proud to be me. 

I have asked for hugs
when I needed them to be strong again. 

Yes, I have cried in worry and impatience
but I am trying to overcome them.

More specifically,
I convey my deepest gratitude to my brother

who has been my pillar of support. 

I will be patient and recover slowly but surely. :)