Last week I expected the norm… and definitely didn’t get it.
It all started two Friday’s ago when I expected to play another regular game of basketball for the inter-faculty team and like any ordinary game I prepared myself to play like an NBA All-star and take no prisoners. But fantasy very rarely looks like reality and what I didn’t expect was in the last minute of a losing game I would land on the top of someone’s foot causing great pain to my right ankle. But not bad enough to prevent a smile for the post game pic.
When I took my shoe off I expected to see the familiar ankle I had spent the last 19 years with. Unfortunately it was nowhere to be seen replaced by something that one would liken more closely to the foot of a small elephant. ( I’m going with small elephant as I don’t want to appear to be over exaggerating).
At this point feeling like I was living in an advert for Codral Cold I realised I had to ‘Soldier on’ as I had an assignment due that afternoon. So instead of after the game gracefully jogging down to the library as expected, it took me 30 minutes to hobble from the gymnasium to the Music Library, a mere 200 metres away…….followed closely by an unexpected trip to the doctors.
Like any A&E visit with this type of injury I understood I would enter with a sore ankle and leave with a sore ankle, but I would have gained peace of mind with a speedy diagnosis and one of whatever lollies they had on offer to pacify young children. What I didn’t expect was to wait for two hours, get xrayed, wait some more to then go home with a diagnosed ‘ankle sprain’ on crutches without even the glimpse of a jetplane or jaffa.
So there I was foot elevated and iced all weekend plans cancelled (well perhaps I did make one brief appearance at Shadows strictly for medicinal purposes). Then after five days of swallowing concrete pills in an attempt to harden up I was called back to A&E under a cloud of mystery to be told my ankle was actually broken. Which created another unexpected situation. Once your brain is told ‘that’s not a sprain’ followed by ‘its actually broken’ – a rare phenomenon occurs and the pain to the affected area returns almost immediately…………..fast forwarding this story to the chapter entitled ‘Five weeks in a Moonboot’.
So with the arrival of the Moonboot and onset of ‘its actually broken’ pain syndrome I faced a disruption in what was already a pretty tightly planned schedule leading up to my next assessment. Not being one to cry over spilt milk it was time to have a chat with my lecturer and lucky for me he was more than understanding granting an assignment extension, reading my draft and pointing me in a clearer direction which I was over the moon about! (pardon the pun).
So my boot and I have four weeks left together and I can say its not all bad as my lack of mobility has certainly raised the length of my study time and health wise I find myself questioning whether the KitKat from the vending machine is really worth the journey. And then there has been the amazing warmth I have felt from all my lecturers and classmates on my course offering help and good old fashioned genuine friendship.
So on reflection I’m not recommending anyone take to the court like an NBA All-star and repeat the two weeks I have just had but its really reassuring to know that if the unexpected happens, the lecturers are highly approachable and understanding and my course mates are seriously stand up people.
So thanks everyone from the bottom of my moonboot – I truly have appreciated all your help and support!
Matthew KereamaMatthew Kereama
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