Wednesday, September 22, 2010
So I've been limping around for a week and my ankle hasn't really gotten any better. We're flying to Barcelona on Saturday for a week so I figured I probably should see a doctor here before I go. You know, in case it turns into gangrene and falls off and I'm in a hospital where all I can say in the local language is "Una cerveza, por favor".
Yep, DrH is going to have to order his own. I haven't gotten as far as counting to two yet.
So I got an appointment with my favourite orthopaed who, when I normally see him, is working up a sweat throwing me around the room to try and fix my neck. He was quite impressed with the general level of bruising and soreness I had after a week, so I got a x-ray.
Of course I forgot my android was in my pocket so either smart phones aren't sensitive to that kind of radiation or the lead apron you wear to protect your ovaries also works for mobile devices.
The end of all this is that I've chipped the end of my fibula. This is officially my first broken bone and makes me rather proud. It took 35 years but I finally managed to crack one. Hmmm, maybe this is the first sign of osteoporosis.
So I'm wearing a splint for the next three weeks until it's hopefully attached again. Derby training is on hold and I'll be limping around on the tourist trek of Barcelona next week. I'm planning on rest breaks for a brief wine restorative, oh, every hundred metres or so.