jeff (jeffhernandez) wrote,
jeff
jeffhernandez

Broken Ankle Diaries

"So, how are you?  How was your day?"
"Same old, same old."

Man, who knew the same old same old could be so boring.  Way more boring than what same old, same old used to be.  It used to mean I'd get up, maybe work out, go to work, suffer through the slings and arrows of my daily grind, come home, watch some television, maybe read, maybe MAYBE do some writing, and go to bed.  

Now it means wake up, stare at the ceiling, hop to the bathroom on one leg.  Brush my teeth.  Hop to the computer room to see if anyone has e-mailed me in the last three hours.  Hop back to bed to go back to either pick up a magazine, a book, watch some television, or most likely of all, go back to sleep.

I've broken my ankle.  I can't walk on it (No weight bearing, as the doctor says) for another week, which means I have to crutch myself around.  I can't drive anywhere (right ankle), and the nurse said that I'm officially an impaired driver now, which means if I get pulled over, I could get a ticket.

So my days are pretty much restricted to the confines of my house.  There's not much to do in the house, which means my days are pretty much restricted to the confines of my room. 

"So, what did you do today?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"I watched some television, and slept.  There's not really much more I can do than those two things."
"You know what you should do?"
"Ride a bike?"
"Can you?"
"No."
"You should Google, '10 things to do when you have a broken leg'."
"You think they'd have something like that?"
"Google has everything."

Notes from this morning:

Woke up.  Looked at clock.  8:30.  K might take me to go shopping for shorts.  I have a cast for 6 weeks and only three pairs of shorts.  I need more shorts.  Plus it's going to be summer time in Texas.  I should have more shorts anyway.  But then she said she might not have time to take me shopping.  I really need to find someone that will take me shopping, and bring me food.  Go back to sleep.  

Alarm goes off.  9:45 in the morning.  Listen to radio for a bit.  Get to hopping.  Hop to bathroom to brush teeth.  Hop back to bed to put on cast shoe.  Look for crutches.  Where the hell are my crutches?  Find crutches which were underneath bed.  I don't remember putting them there, but whatever.  Crutch down to check e-mail.  Hotmail?  Nothing.  Gmail?  Nothing.  Myspace?  Nothing.  Facebook?  Nothing.  Say hello to my brother who promptly takes a shower and leaves the house.  Realize that I've blown my full load of days activities in the first 20 minutes of my being awake.  Go back to bed.

Wake up.  It's now 11:45.  I'm alone in the house.  I both like and hate being alone.  I like the solidarity.  But hate that I have to find a way to make myself some lunch hopping around the kitchen on one leg.  I have fears that I'll be hopping around and slip and fall and break an arm, or the other leg.  Then I'll really be screwed.
Crutch over to the computer room.  Check e-mail.  Hotmail. Nothing.  Check Myspace.  Nothing.  Skip facebook.  Skip Gmail, hardly anyone ever writes me on Facebook or Gmail anyway.  

Noon.  K isn't going to call.  I need to find a way to get to a clothing shop.  I could call my family, but they seem to enjoy expressing  their being inconvenienced when I ask for broken ankle favors  (Eyes roll, heavy sighing, telling me what they were doing before I asked for their help... all of this will of course be remembered the next time they're incapacitated).  Stare at the ceiling for a bit.  Start counting specks on speckled ceiling.  Get to 218 before I really start to question how pathetic broken ankle Jeff really is.

12:45 Start thinking about crutching to kitchen to hop around while making myself something to eat.  I just don't want to put that much physical exertion into making a damn hot pocket.

12:50 Google 10 things to do when you have a broken ankle.  Very little comes up.  

The idea of course was to find something to pick up my spirits.  "Hey little camper, just because you're hurt doesn't mean you're down for the count!  Look at all these things you can do!"

Things I found.
-Play video games.
-watch television
-play guitar
-sleep
-no need to wash socks (socks is a big player in the broken foot/leg/ankle circuit.  People love the fact that they only have to wear one sock.  Personally, I think it's going to make matching them all back up a bitch in 6 weeks).
-eat
-phone friends
-play on internet

I do most of these things anyway, and all they've done is inspire me to consider becoming a cutter.  So, I'm gonna have to come up with my own list.

Things that you can and probably WILL do when you're laid up lame at home:

Sleep.  There's no getting around it.  You have to keep the leg elevated, which means you're probably laying back, which means you're going to fall asleep.

Get big shoulders.  I gotta say, the best thing about this whole thing is the slow definition I'm developing in my upper arms area.  You start to find that you crutch around just to get a shoulder work out... until you slip and fall and bang your broken whatever.  Unfortunately the nice shoulders are being offset by the once again expanding belly and ass.  You just can't do cardio on crutches.  All that work gone down the tubes. 

Take a bath.  I hate baths.  I haven't taken a bath in 10 years, which, coincidentally was the last time I was on crutches (knee surgery).  Prior to that, the last bath I had was when I was 4, or 5, or however old one is when one starts taking showers.  I just don't understand them.  You sit in a pool of stagnate dirty water.  I sort of felt like a beached whale.

Wonder why your friends and family have stopped calling.  It's all roses the first two days, but then everyone gets back to work, back to their lives.  You find yourself looking at your phone, willing it to ring.  A lot.

After you realize you are indeed on your own, you take to self entertainment.  I'm not talking about pleasuring ones self.  I'm talking about television.  That gets old fast.  Then you read.  I'm finishing up a Dave Eggers book, and starting "Cloud Atlas"  It's K's favorite book.  The first part is thick, wordy.  I need a dictionary by my side.

Evenutally you start to embrace your sedimentary nature.  

I've played games such as, "Let's see how purple my toes can get."  And, "How long can I hold my breath?"
And, (In conjunction with the purple toe game) "Can I get my foot to swell to a point where the cast breaks open?"
And, "How much weight can you hold using nothing but your mouth?" (the crutch around while having to carry stuff game) or "How far can you hop on one leg?" (the whatever it is I have to transport is too big for my mouth, therefore I have to hold it, and I can't crutch around game) and of course, "Count the speck of speckles on the ceiling" game.

At some point you'll realize you've done nothing but sit on your ass all day.  That's when the depression really kicks in.  You're foot is throbbing with pain, your toes look as if they might pop right off your feet.  You haven't spoken a word in seven hours.  You haven't seen a person who outside your house in several days.   You're bursting with energy, and beaten down by life all at once.  Depression sets in.  No one cares anymore.  You've been abandoned.  The lump forms in the back of your throat.  The eyes start to well up.  The walls close in.  Depression sucks.  And really there's only one real solution.  Sleep.  Sleep it off.  By the time you wake up, the throbbing pain will  have gone away.  The walls of the bedroom will no longer be colapsing in on you, and you will have no issues with watching what is sure to be the 23rd episode of Cheaters you've seen in the last three days.

It's now 1:47.  K's definately not calling.  Check Myspace.  Nothing.  Check Hotmail.  Nothing.  My brother's home.  I might send him out for food.  But really, I might just go back to sleep.
 
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