As I was falling to the ground, I understood two things clearly: 1) I am an idiot. And, 2) my leg is properly broken.

Saturday morning was a lovely thing to behold: Summer’s heat had been broken by thick clouds spilling out rain drops in soft, consistent loops. I was getting ready to clean house, which is what I do most Saturdays. I hadn’t done washing in a while so there was a dire need to get clean clothes in my closet.

Then I decided it would be a good idea to clean out some leaves from my pool…in the rain. I slipped on wet tiles next to the swimming pool and with my right ankle bent to my right, I fell to my left.

It was the sound of the thing that gave it away, you see. It wasn’t like a branch breaking; it was cleaner than that. Perhaps like snapping a thick perspex pipe. A clear crackling of strength lost. It is a sound that I’m having difficulty forgetting…like a sound from a warzone that you long to leave behind…

There was no pain initially. I pulled up my right leg to find my foot dangling at the end of it like a piece of bait on a fishing pole. A clear thought formed in my mind and I said it out loud: you can’t stay here.

I was alone. My phone was in my kitchen and my house keys in another room. So I turned on my hands and knees and crawled back home. I slipped down the stair that leads to my livingroom and pushed high onto my knees to lock the door behind me, slightly aware of the dangling foot and the dull pain that was slowly appearing at the end of my leg.

I reached the kitchen. My fainting disease was starting to kick in and I realised I was in trouble. If I fainted in my kitchen, no-one would know…

I kept my head down and crawled to where my keys were. I popped them in my pants pocket and crawled to my front door, which I managed to open. I stared at the front gate. The remote. Shit, I’d forgotten the remote control that opens the front gate!

Crawling back was no option. But I remembered a little something. My security company keeps an extra remote. So I called them. Then I called an ambulance. Then I called a friend. When I looked up from where I was lying on the floor of the little room behind my front door, I saw the security guard press the remote control button and my gate rolled open. I was sure I could see rays of sun come throught that gate!

The ambulance punched through the large opening in the gate almost immediately. Two large, utterly beautiful young men appeared in paramedic uniforms and tended to my injuries with the ease and competence of champions. They seemed a little freaked out that I claimed to feel almost no pain. And all I could think of saying was: I’m so sorry how I look…it’s house cleaning day.

My friend rushed through the front door a minute later and managed to pack a hospital bag in no time at all. Oh I won’t be staying over, I said.

Hahahaha, she said.

What the paramedics thought was merely a bad dislocation ended up being multiple, complex fractures of the lower leg bones. Five days and two operations later, the leg is all fixed up. But ahead of me is a long road of patient and uncomfortable recovery.

And boy, did the pain make its way to my head. Thank goodness for pain meds…

I’d love a chococino…but I cannot bear trod to the kitchen on crutches. Water it is…

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