1472 The Day My Plans Changed!

As you might be able to tell, today we are talking about an event that changed my plans for the near future. At least I am hoping it is only for the near future. Of course, there are no guarantees and don’t worry it is nothing life-threatening. Something happened over the weekend, on the 21st of November 2020, and by something, I mean a small accident that involved me, a stationary object, and another moveable object. Those of you who know me will know what has happened, some don’t even need to ask where I was when I said, “Guess where I was today”. Most of my close friends and family knew where I was. For those of you who don’t know me and haven’t guessed correctly yet, here is the verdict. I landed myself in A&E on Saturday afternoon (for you Americans, that means the ER). Why or how you ask? Don’t worry, I will tell you now.

This story starts on Saturday 21st November at approximately 10:30 am as I was getting myself ready ish for the day. I knew There was due to be a knock on the door in the next 20 minutes or so. Well, this knock that I was expecting, came early. It came shortly after I started to get ready, so I shoved my hair up in a bun as I was walking downstairs. I opened the door, said hello, and said I would go and make sure my parents were up. I legged it (ran as quick as possible) up the stairs to make sure my dad was up and then into my room to grab the deodorant as I couldn’t remember if I had used it or not. This is where the story takes a turn for the worse. There was another knock on the door. What did I do you ask? Well, I legged it down the stairs again. This was when I made a big mistake. I made the choice that will alter my life for the next few weeks.

I am not 100% sure what happened because it happened so fast, and my concentration was on getting to the door. I mostly remember the sound. I am going to go with what I believe happened (as it makes the most sense). I have a ‘2 Quarter landing staircase’ (it is U shaped), on the two square bits we often put things here to take up to get them out of the way. Well, there was a blanket and a pair of trainers on the bottom square part. I decided to take two steps at a time, so I was jumping a little. I believe when I stepped, I landed partly on one of the trainers (sneakers), it tipped to one side which caused me to fall. I rolled my ankle and heard a grinding sound (like elastic stretching close to snapping) and a loud snap. However, I did manage to catch myself on the wall. Later I realised I must have hit my knee because I have a big black bruise on my knee as well.

I am not sure how I got to the bottom of the stairs; I must have hopped. I will add this all happened, and I got to the door before this person knocked again, so we are talking seconds here. I was hoping it was just a very loud click and that I hadn’t done any real damage to my foot. Anyway, it was a family member at the door. I explained that I fell and that my ankle hurts. I hopped onto the sofa and sat down. It was cold because we had the front door open as we had a delivery at the same time. The main thing that was going through my head is about the job I was supposed to be starting on Monday (less than 48 hours away). I was crossing my fingers that I would be fine. I think I knew in my gut this was going to be more than just a bruise.

I will add that I have torn ligaments twice already in the same ankle. Once when I was about 10, in 2006, and a second time in 2017 when I was 20, so I knew I had upset the previous injuries. With the previous injury, I had crutches in the ‘Junk’ cupboard upstairs ready in case I ever needed them again or maybe a friend or family. I knew I needed to buy a black top (for work) just in case they did let me start the role. So, a family member drove me and helped me purchase a black top for work. It possibly wasn’t the smartest idea to go shopping but I needed a black top and that was my only chance to get one. As I was trying to get in the car, a lovely woman opened the car door for me as she saw me struggling trying to hop, balance and open the car door.

When I got home from that it was about 12:45. I had a look at my ankle hoping it was a little swollen and not very painful. Sadly, it was a bit of a shock. IT WAS HUGE. It looked like someone had tucked an egg under my skin over my ankle, my ankle bone had been disguised.

Due to all this Covid-19, I had heard that you shouldn’t go straight to A&E (unless it is life or death), you should call 111 and see what their advice is. I try to do this anyway. I despise time wasters, they cost this world way too much. If I can avoid using hospitals’ time, then I will. Unfortunately, their advice was to get to A&E within an hour and they were sending a referral now. I came off the phone and shared the results with my dad. Then I crawled upstairs to go to the toilet and let my mum know what was going on. Her response “Oh for god’s sake” and turned round to go back to sleep. Charming right? Don’t worry, she does care, I just get injured a lot, so she knows I won’t panic and that I don’t necessarily need a worried mum to be calming me down etc.

For anyone wondering, no you are not allowed to take anyone with you to A&E, if you are mentally safe to make your own decisions then you must go alone (apart from minors obviously). Usually, either my mum or my dad will come with me. It was about a 10-minute journey to the local A&E (we know the journey well). For anyone interested, or you know you live near me, (in Hertfordshire) I went to Barnet General. Which is about 3-4 minutes from the A1 southbound.

We know Barnet General well, both my grandparents have been patients there, I have been a patient there, my dad has been a patient there, and it is right next to my grandparent’s house as well. It’s about a 20-minute walk from High Barnet Tube Station. I have been in Barnet General A&E at least 5 times than I can count, but it is probably longer than that.

As my dad wasn’t allowed to come in with me, he dropped me as close to the A&E entrance as he could. By this point I had been hobbling on crutches for about 2 hours, my arms were sore, my hands were sore, and I hadn’t had anything to eat and had barely anything to drink. It was about 1:40 pm at this point. I hobbled to the entrance (I will add that it is uphill). It didn’t go well, to be honest, but a lovely gentleman went and got a wheelchair for me. Bless him, he left all his things outside just to take me inside.

I got myself checked in and another gentleman wheeled me over to the waiting area. To my surprise, I was only waiting there for maybe 10 minutes. I had visions of having to wait there for hours. A senior nurse was the first person to see me. I think she was ‘triage’, which I believe means she picked which area was best for me to be treated. She quickly referred me to the ‘urgent treatment centre’ (which did sound a little scary) but I nothing scary happened. I didn’t have to wait long before a lovely doctor came to get me from the waiting area. It is strange just sitting, not knowing how long you are going to be sitting there and not knowing who will come to get you. Especially when you are sitting on your own. It was quite dull waiting, but it wasn’t too long.

The doc looked at my foot and ankle, pressed a little bit, and ran a few tests to check reflexes and checking for any other injuries. One thing I found very funny is when he said he was going to apply a bit of pressure on the swollen area and around my foot but asked for me to shout if it is painful instead of kicking him. Once he was satisfied with all the checks he had to do, the x-rays were ordered. I think there were 5 in total. Again, the x-rays were quick, I wasn’t waiting long. Another doc or nurse (not sure what he was) came and wheeled me into the x-ray room. Not going to lie, it wasn’t fun twisting and moving my ankle in different directions for the x-rays but luckily, they only take a couple of seconds. That’s the bit I always hate when they make you move or use things that hurt.

Here is where I and a porter had a bit of a laugh. The X-ray doc left me near the corridor so the doc that was treating me could grab me when he is ready. Now a porter came along that was looking for a wheelchair, he asked me where I was going but I wasn’t sure.

So, he took me with him to find out where I need to be. We go to A&E majors, he looked at his paperwork, and couldn’t find my name but then a nurse said where I was supposed to be which was not where we were, so the poor porter had to take me back and then continue looking for a wheelchair. He apologised but I just said it doesn’t matter to me, all I gotta do is sit here, it was a little adventure. To which he responded, “I would say we stretched your legs but maybe not this time.” I am not sure how long I was waiting there; I would say 20 ish minutes in total, maybe not even that long.

The doc then came and got me, checked I had the x-rays, and we went back to a room so we could get sorted and figure out a treatment method. We looked at the x-rays together, each one he was having a look at it, saying “Gooooood” and giving me a thumbs up. We got to one he paused for a second and skipped to the next one. This next one was also good, so he went back to the one he skipped. Then came the bad news which I was half expected from the size my ankle swelled up to. I can’t remember which bone it was but there was a bit of bone that was a couple of kilometres away from all the rest. The doc said it looks like I have cracked a part of the bone off my bone.

The slightly good news was they didn’t want to put me in a case. They said they wanted to give me a walking boot. They hoped that the walking boot would be sufficient to get me back to normal and that I wouldn’t have to return that way they limit my exposure. If they put me in a cast, I was going to have to return to get the cast-off. So, there we have it. On Saturday 21st November 2020 I broke my left foot and severely sprained my ankle.