I am broken – both literally and metaphorically. You see, a few weeks back, I broke two bones in my foot – my right foot; the cuboid and a cuneiform.
They’re two of the the bones that sit between the long skinny bones of the foot – the extensions of your toes – and the heal bones. They sit just in front of the ankle.
If you’ve been following me on Facebook or Instagram, you will know this already. And you’re probably sick of hearing about it. Sorry.
I have been staying for a few years now that I need a break. I meant some time alone, away from everyone and my usual life. I guess, in part, it’s a shakeup of my usual life. Maybe?
I am astounded by this for a number of reasons. First up, it’s the first bone break I’ve had in my life. And I’m ancient.
Also, things like this don’t generally happen to me. I’m the sort of person that goes into emergency and they g0 “oh, I think you’ve done this worst thing you can possibly do in the circumstances, and we’ll send you off for [insert whatever tests need doing]” and then the results come back and it’s all good and nothing like what they thought.
In this instance, I went to the ED and they x-rayed and there was nothing. “Probably soft tissues, get some crutches, stay off it for a few days, go see your physio.”
I saw my physio. I wasn’t in a great deal of pain, but I do have a high pain tolerance. “I think you’ve probably ruptured a ligament,” because of the lack of pain.
“Come back in a few days when the swelling goes. We’ll probably send you for an MRI.”
Second visit, second physio (my usual). “Yep, MRI … off you go.”
Several hours later I am MRId.
Several hours after that comes the call from physio 1 … “You’ve done a great job …” and proceeds to tell me the details of the report “a comminuted fracture on the cuboid extending into the fourth metatarsal joint”.
Basically, the bone splintered. In the joint. By miracle, all the bits remained in place and stayed were they should. So that’s nice.
Two hours after that is the call from physio 2, who pretty much repeats what physio 1 says, and I’m booked in to have my foot put in a boot and told to stay off it for three weeks. Oh, and to see a specialist.
It just keeps getting better … the specialist (three weeks later) wants to put me in a cast because of the type and location of the break. He relents after I make promises I will keep. I can stay in a boot, but I must remain off it for another three to four weeks.
He finds the second fracture, the one in my cuneiform. Confirmed later that day by physio 2.
So, it is all a little back to front for me.
And it has given me a bit of a break from my usual in some ways. I can’t do as much. I’m working from home full time (with much, much gratitude to my workplace who have allowed and enabled me to do this), and I’ve got back two hours a day in travel time.
And school pick up times.
And walking up and down stairs to get sustenance at various times of the day time.
It’s given me a bit more time to sort through a few things that I’ve needed to sort through – organising my Facebook “friends” list into custom lists.
To sort through my photos where I had had the brilliant idea of sorting them, some years ago, by the device I took them with, and not anything logical like dates or people or events. Clever.
It’s also allowed me time to think. About the things I love and am passionate about. About how I want to do things to change the world, and about how these things, really, are nothing groundbreakingly new and people have been saying similar stuff for thousands of years and we still have the same issues …
I’ve been thinking about whether there is any point in continuing with doing these things (including this blog) or simply accept that I’m never going to make enough of a difference to change anything at any level.
I’ve been pondering for how long I have let my fear of upsetting others – intentionally or otherwise, and I can assure everyone it is never, ever intentional – dictate what I say and what I don’t. Or, mostly, what I don’t say.
And I think that is among the most broken anyone can be … to repress their passions, the things that can benefit others, because of those that knock you down, that block you, that sabotage you or just make it difficult for you to do the things that help others.
Okay, maybe being that person who hurts and blocks and sabotages is more broken.
I am, in some bizzare screwed up way, both of these people to me.
I am broken and I don’t know how to fix that. I don’t know how to not care about others, nor to ‘just do’ what I am driven to do without thinking about how it will impact others – good or bad. I don’t want to hurt, and at the same time, I need to know it will make someone else better.
I wish I could stick it in a boot and stay off it for a few weeks.
For now, I may just take a break and work on me, and see if I can fix these broken bits.
Even just a little.
Even just enough.