I honestly do not feel like writing today because it is one of those days/ weeks/ months when I am very depressed. The reason is not far-fetched, but I choose not to talk about it here primarily because I am stripped of most of my anonymity. Suffice it to say, however, that need all the prayers that I can get at this time.

I've been working on my weight and my diet and it has not been as difficult as it is now because of my dislocated ankle that refused to heal on time. I can't exercise the way I want to because of the ankle and I can't be inactive because I am dieting. Na wa o. But I am eating healthy sha. I think I am trying to cram all the fruits and vegetables I missed throughout my last 31 years, into my body in one go. I have found out that I can eat one whole pineapple, piece by piece, in one day! But I have to take it easy on the pineapples, it seems they irritate my stomach. The effect of the dietary changes are being felt though, 'cos all my friends couldn't get over how beautiful my skin looked when they saw me after about a month. I wish they had said the same about my weight, though, if not for this dratted ankle.

Speaking of ankles, the way I dislocated mine was too strange. I had just come back from a business trip to SA, which marked the end of the first phase of a looooong period of work, so I was looking forward to letting my hair down. As fate would have it, a friend and former colleague of mine invited me to a girls' nite out, that evening. I thought it was a good idea and I decided to attend. The problem was that I had nothing to wear. Really. For anyone who knows me, I am always in my work attire: wife beaters and cargo pants with running shoes or sneakers. I had become so accustomed to this attire that I had/ have all colours of singlets in my wardrobe and several types/ colours/lengths of cargo pants and jeans. I wanted to shop in SA when I went there but there was no time for my (then) assistant to send my money before I left. So I decided to go shopping for a top, or anything, really, to wear to the shindig.

I went shopping near the house of my nearest and dearest friend, J, to kill two birds with one stone. I had not seen her in a while and I thought it would be a good opportunity. Anyway, I went to the shop and the owner did not seem to really haave time for me. I tried on a top, it wasn't my size but she was reluctant to get my size for me saying she would do it later, as she had no shop assistant and that her back room was in shambles. In my mind I just decided to go to other neasrby shops to shop because she wasn't serious, afterall I was a regular customer. That was the first step towards my wahala. All along the road the state government was digging a drainage, there was literally nowhere to pass save for some planks placed across the gaping holes that had iron rungs on their edges. I had passed there successfully initially, going in, but on coming out I stepped on the plank nervously, felt it a bit steady and as I put my other foot out I saw a change in my visual perspective. I noticed that I was seeing the sky and then I felt I was on the floor. I felt no pain and I was about to pick myself up when I saw my left foot- it was bent towards the other leg from the ankle! (I tell you, if you have never dislocated your leg the worst thing imaginable is seeing a part of you contorted in an angle that is not natural to it. It's even painful for me to recall that incident, that look.) I was scared and devastated at the same time. I thought I had lost my leg! Freak accident. Thank God for the people around there, who quickly came to my aid, and a guy on particular, Paul, who pushed the ankle back in place. God bless them. You cannot imagine the pain thereafter. The foot wa swollen to at least THRICE the size of the other leg. As luck would have it, my my friend was driving past, just at that moment and she took me to the hospital. The foolish driver of mine who was parked right opposite where this was happening had fallen so fast asleep he wan't even aware anything was going on.

So that's how the story went. I was given crutches and told to rest but I went right back to work with the crutches, until that particular job was over. It's almost three months now, and I still have enough pain to impede my movement, I've read though that ankle injuries take forever to heal. I never knew how important a leg was until now... sometimes I wish it was my hand instead, but I thank God anyway, it could have been worse. From what I hear dislocations rarely go without fractures, but I had no fracture. And considering the fact that there were iron rungs on the sides of the drainage I got off easy. What if one of them had pierced my... I don't even want to think about it.

I'm still moving on though, it will take a little more than that to hold me down permanently.All this just came back to me today because I took a walk down the road and it was a huge task.I needed to do it 'cos I did not work out today, I feel I am doing it wrong cos of my foot and the funny pain I feel in some parts of my body. I am not pitying myself or anything, I just want to get back to work so bad, or maybe I should say I want the work to come to me. It's about time eh?

Chili!

Comments

Anonymous said…
Wow. really strange the story about your ankle. Don't feel too depressed, better days are on the way!
hey, dnt be down. U wanna have fun? visit www.naijabloggersaward.blogspot.com

It shld up your spirit.

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