…when you’re dealing with a four-year-old boy!!!
This is how the conversation with my four-year-old Blue One went today…
Me: “What do you want for lunch – a sandwich thin or a crumpet?”
Blue One: “Hmmm, a crumpet”
Me: “Are you sure?”
Blue One: “Yes”
Me: “I’m putting your crumpet in the toaster”
Blue One: “Ok”
A couple of minutes later the crumpet is toasted and I’m buttering it…
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No seriously – I’m not taking a break from my blog – I have a broken ankle! The image of my crutches may have given it away and a lot of you may already know this if you follow me on my Facebook Page or Instagram.
It all started at one of my beloved Boxercise classes – it was coming to the end of the class, we weren’t doing anything complicated, just running up and down the hall, when I turned to run back and so my foot was sideways but I still had forward momentum and my left foot turned under me – I heard a crack and felt a concentrated pain like being pinged by a bit of elastic and my first thought literally was “Oh shit, I’ve just broken my ankle” which was then followed by thoughts of how would I deal with the kids.
I collapsed on the floor clutching my ankle and my Boxercise partner called our lovely fitness instructor over who was brilliant and did everything perfectly with regards to an accident (I feel so guilty I managed to hurt myself in her class – what a muppet I am), she got me some ice and had me elevate my leg on a chair.
As I wasn’t crying, feeling sick, overly shocked and still quite coherent I’m sure people thought I was probably being overdramatic saying I’d broken my ankle. There was lots of discussion of maybe it was ligament/tissue damage – I said: “It could be, but I don’t think so, I’ve broken it!”. Even my poor partner had heard the crack!!!
We recorded the incident as we waited for my poor hubby to be dropped off by his mum (his dad sat in our house, as the kids were asleep in bed). Once my hubby arrived, with the help of my lovely friends we managed to get me into the car (one of the perks of being a lightweight) and then it was off to Queen Mary’s Hospital, Sidcup, and their Urgent Care department. We got there around 8:40pm and registered with the reception, who were very kind but warned me that the wait for triage was 3 hours but x-ray was only open for just over another hour – the wait was on! I was terrified that I wouldn’t get seen, and totally having my priorities right I was worried I’d have to cancel my hairdresser coming to me the next morning! The important things in life eh!?
Jog on Mum 