Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Falling Down Like a Sack of Shit

I don’t know why I haven’t written about my sore hip and what caused it? I guess, I felt a bit like a dope. Or, I was just writing about other things, political things rather than personal things and now I have come back to the personal…

I think I have been preoccupied with this evil Federal Government and how Tony Abbott and his bunch of elitist Christian right wing thugs are trying to destroy the very fabric of Australian society. Utter Morons! 
Deliberately? It is hard not to think so. Why?

However, here goes.

The builders started work on renovations to my old neighbour’s house early Monday morning a week ago. Buddy was barking at the noise of their arrival and their morning start up, up the back by the gate that leads through to each of our gardens. We have always wire fences between the four houses up until this point up until Gordon sold his house. Now, we’re not quite sure what we are going to do going into the future. That may all have to change.

We blocked off the steps dividing the bottom part of our back yard to the top part of our back yard so Buddy would stay out of sight. So he wouldn’t make a pest of himself, which is unlikely. And so he wouldn’t get stolen, which is more likely. We used the hard metal mesh that we usually block Buddy from going down the side of the house. We placed two green plastic chairs on either side of the mesh, which was between them, making it impossible for him to access the top part of the garden.

I headed to work at 8am. So much for working Tuesday to Thursday. I really so wanted to have today off when I saw all the workers at my old neighbour’s, just to look after Buddy, but, I think, the blocked stairs seemed like a good compromise...

... the barricaded stairs was a good compromise until I got home and I decided to step over the barricade rather than take it down. The builders were likely to be back the next day, so why take it down. I stepped up onto the wall of the stairs, I stepped over onto the wall of the raised garden and I stepped down onto the wrought iron chair to step down onto the ground, but the wrought iron chair broke as I stepped onto it and I went “splat” onto the paving like a bag of shit. Crash! Onto my right hip and right shoulder, almost ending up in the pond. Ouch! Fucken ouch!

I was shaken. It was sudden and unexpected.

I went upstairs to get changed out of my work clothes. I got very cold standing there and started to really shake uncontrollably. I came back downstairs and lay on the couch and waited for the shaking to stop.

Then I decided not to be such a pussy and I lit the fire. It was hard work. I think I was in a bit of shock.

Poor me, poor me.

I was okay though. I held an ice pack on it all night, right up until I went to bed. Sam patted my head.

I got up at 4am, over heating, it had been one of those very cold nights and Sam put the column heater on in our room for the first time but we still had the three doonas on our bed. I was nervous that I was going to be in pain. And I was. I had trouble walking after I stood up. My leg hurt, very much. I went downstairs, it was difficult, the stairs were very difficult. I took Nurofen. The pain seemed to subside after that, when I woke at 6am it felt a bit better.

It still hurt when I walked though. I was really seriously wondering if I was going to be able to work.

It was hard driving to work the next day. My sports style car seats seemed to press on my hip and made it ache as I drove to work.

I took Nurofen every four hours. I didn’t say anything to E who I was working with, I just tried to get on with it. But all day I stressed about it, every time I got up it hurt. I stressed that I had really done some damage to my hip. And if I had, what did that mean?

I didn’t say anything to anyone, as I felt a bit like a dick, even though I thought I was limping noticeably. I really hit that paving hard, what if I had damaged my hip, fractured a bone, or chipped something? These things happen. I really stressed about it, quietly, to myself. Nobody noticed.

I had been thinking about heading to St Vincent’s when I got home to get an x-ray, just to put my mind at ease. I contemplated going to see Doctor Johnny, but he would only send me to a pathology centre to have an x ray. That would mean driving to see him and then if the last time for my toe…

… I fractured my small toe about a month ago, did I write about that? I’m not sure that I did? I kicked the wheel of my wheelie bin in the dark. It really hurt, but I digress …

…was anything to go by, then driving to Carlton for an x-ray. All of that would take a few hours, so I might as well just go to emergency and have it all done there. That’s what hospitals are for, after all. Our world class hospital system that Tony Abbott is trying to destroy, again, I am not sure why?

David called just as I got home. He said that I should go to the doctor.

When Sam got home not long after, I asked him if he’d come to emergency with me and he said he would. We put on our jackets and left. The Gertrude Street Projection Festival was in full swing, so there was plenty of interesting things to look at as we made our way up Gertrude Street.

We got served at the triage counter straight away. They said we would be taken in soon. And we were taken in soon. We sat in the clinic with two other guys and a girl, who all seemed to have problems with their feet that needed x-ray.

A medical assistant saw us first. She took all the details and asked to look at my hip. It was kind of feeling better by bow, probably thanks to the Nurofen every four hours, and there was no bruise and seemingly little swelling. The medical assistant said she wasn’t going to order an x-ray straight away, but she would wait for the doctor to see what he thought.

I wondered if I was waisting everyone’s time.

Not too long after the blonde doctor turned up and he asked me questions and looked at my hip. He said that the area that I indicated was an important part of the hip and the part where everything joined up, so he did want to have it x-rayed.

Not too long after I was taken to the x-ray room where W and P said they were just reading about my mishap. I was wondering if they were laughing. I wouldn’t have cared if they were, it is good to see the funny side. I had to remove my jeans and put on a gown. The x-ray was over quickly.

Not so long after, blonde doctor told me everything was okay, all clear. Yay!

It had taken just over two hours and it seemed very easy.

We walked back down the cold and windy Gertrude Street, I was feeling much happier by then. There were lots of people in the street gazing at the projections on the buildings. I still limped, but it was a limp of optimism by then.

We ate fried rice for dinner. Buddy came in and licked me as though he was trying to make this fallen soldier feel better. The open fire crackled.

Now two weeks later, my hip is still a little sore, although much much better. I have a really impressive purple/black bruise though on my right thigh. I have taken photos of it, which I was going to post, but now I have thought better about posting photos of myself with my pants around my knees. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

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