Enough already! I may be lame but I never expect it to be in literal meaning. (Just a sprained ankle, but still...)
I always saw myself to be agile & quick-moving. With a good balance. And in some degree, fearless. I remember I used to find it amusing whenever I dropped during ice-skating. In fact, I enjoyed the feeling of falling & the exhilaration that followed whenever I managed to fall 'gracefully'.
...the day that image shattered.
I fell. The treacherous gravity conspired with the ground as it hit my left ankle in such a wrong angle. It swelled immediately as I gingerly attempted to walk.
The staircase was alright. Not slippery at all. My shoes too were in good condition. I just couldn't imagine the cause of my accident. Careless?! Fine, maybe. I know I was focused. I didn't daydream. My mind was in tuned to my body. However, my reaction was pathetically inadequate. Thus, the sprained ankle.
The first night, I could still walk out to buy my dinner. In frustratingly slow, "one-step-at-the-time-pause-continue-the-next-step" kind of manner.
The only consolation was it was a cool, breezy night. A few Panadols & I slept without pain.
...as I visited the doctor.
Woke up & I felt much better. Although, the swelling was still bad, I could slowly walk (read: limp) to see a doctor. Two days of Medical Leave, some anti-inflammatory tablets & more panadol-type medicine (the brand's Pacofen, if I remember correctly)
A bit relief as I was told there's no fracture because if it's fracture, I wouldn't be able to walk at all. Cool, no X-Ray! Coz the only thing I wanted to do was to go home & to sleep the whole day.
I celebrated the day by borrowing "The Shadow of The Wind", a novel by Carlos Ruiz Zafón.
Slept the whole day & read the whole night. The pain was numbed.
...finished reading & to my dismay, I was still limping.
The book was engrossing especially as I was trying my hard not to think (read: berate myself) about the accident. Getting restless, I went to visit a library. Impatiently as I was still limping. The visit was fruitless (didn't manage to come across a book calling me to read). Maybe I was worried as the swollen ankle was still look bad.
And worried that on...
...I was back at work.
Still limping. Never realized my colleagues were very sympathetic about it. I was offered a prayer (by an atheist! Grin. I found it sweet of her) & one even offered to wash off the ankle with a water previously prayed on (Yes. I accepted. He's an old man. And I know he's sincere).
I went home limping but happy.
...no way will I stay limping like this.
Yes. Nevermore. The prayers might have done good for my sense of well-being, but perhaps, a visit to Traditional Chinese Physician may even speed up the healing.
I visited one place which was highly recommended by my colleague.
The man who administered it looked young, but confident. He pressed the affected area of the ankle (now swollen as well as bruised. Looked blackish).
With his pen, he marked three locations & I was told to lay on bed. His assistant (one old lady. His mother?) put on three bamboo-look-alike cylinders on the skin. I don't know how they worked but the cylinders sucked the skin very hard. Not exactly painful, but not exactly comfortable either.
I guess it's for relaxing the muscles. After a while, the old lady took out the cylinders. No pain. So far so good.
The man commented that I was lucky that I just dislocated the bone (I winced. For me, it sounded bad & I dreaded to think about the awaiting treatment).
He started massaging the ankle & warned me that he would twist it to re-locate the bone. Stay relax & it's just slightly painful, he said. Resist & the pain will be doubled, he warned.
Guess what I did?
I resisted. How could I not? As he started twisted, I felt like screaming (Thanks to my Pride, I didn't). Involuntarily, I resisted.
He ignored the resistance & continued twisting the ankle. After what it seemed eternity, he stopped. He told me he had pushed back the bone. I breathed out in relief.
The treatment, however, was not over. He applied some strong-smelling oil & massaged the ankle to push away the blood clots inside. It was surprisingly painful. I imagined the blood clots were hardened & he applied pressure to break them to smaller pieces for them to be absorbed back to the blood stream.
Went home feeling terrible (walked even slower & the pain hit me whenever my left foot stepping).
At night, sms-ed my Idol (aka She Formerly Known As The Girl With A Broken Ankle) asking her how long it took for her to heal last time.
Yes, I was impatient. I couldn't imagine walking in this kind of speed. Even old people walked faster that I did.
I indulged in some self-pity (I knew I should have stocked up some good books just for this kind of emergency) & felt much better when the Idol--and her beau--called me back.
...the swelling had visibly eased down.
Still limping today, but glad that the torture session on previous day did produce some result. The swollen ankle now begins to look like an ankle.
The only regret is that on Sunday, I won't be able to go to Velocity@Novena Square to take photos of the event, Hair for Hope 2007.
So what have I learnt from this incident? There ought to be some market for such ankle-guarding shoes or footwears. Such that whenever one slips, the footwears will prevent the ankle to be twisted. So, any inventors out there keen to explore the idea? Heh.