Yesterday marked seven months since my accident, and although it sucks most of the time, there's also those moments when I can't help but laugh at the desperate hopelessness of everyday situations. Here are ten observations that have forced me to see the funny side.
1. Bathing - You can't shower in a boot because you aren't allowed to get them wet, and even if you were they are so chunky that you become about six inches off balance which would no doubt end in disaster in a small and slippery space. So I take baths. The first problem with this is actually getting in said bath with only one leg. I have now mastered the one-leg tricep-dip immersion technique (I have nearly drowned several times as my hands slipped on the wet sides of the bath, my dry leg acting as a weight above me, keeping me under, but I live to tell the tale). So once I've clumsily lowered myself into the bath and nearly drowned, I look around me for, say, the shampoo. The shampoo, which of course, is on the top shelf of the storage rack. I can't reach for it because my dry leg is wedged against the wall, stopping me from being able to move forward. So, out I come again, dripping wet, naked, on one foot standing up and reaching for the shampoo that seems just out of arms reach, the whole time my good leg threatening to slip beneath my unbalanced weight. I successfully retrieve the shampoo and go about my bathing business.
Getting out is much easier - I just have to push up on the sides of the bath, whilst simultaneously bringing my wet leg out and balancing on the side with my dry leg in the air to avoid weight bearing. Then I just try not to fall back in whilst standing up,try and get to the towel before all the water drips into my bandages and make a weird naked crutch race to my room, where I can begin the sweaty chaos of getting dressed with one elephant sized leg, which is conveniently just a liiiitle too big to get any of my clothes over.
2. Carrying Things - If having crutches has any perks, it's that you can't carry food, and therefore are forced into a diet. I make a cup of tea, realise that I can't carry it and sit on the kitchen floor irritably sipping amongst the crumbs and the smooshed peas of the cold tiles. I once tried to push the mug across the floor with gentle taps of my crutch, inspired by the great curling athletes of our time, but the tiles are uneven and my crutch is unsteady and I got about ten inches from my destination when it tipped over and stained the edge of the carpet.
I have become extremely good at fitting objects into pockets, bras, the boot and my gob, to enable me to move items from room to room. I tried carrying a shoulder bag but it just swung around perpetually hitting either me or the crutch and was very, very annoying.
3.The time I was at a potential suitor's house and as I was coming out of the toilet and into a room full of people, my crutch slipped on the water dripping from my washed hands and I fell over. Properly. I wont elaborate on this, it's too painful to recall. Lets just say it's hard to get back up off the floor with crutches.
4. Watching a spider climb into my bandages and not being able to reach around to try and stop it due to lack of ankle movement. Feeling a paranoid tickling feeling in different areas of my foot, (including my healing wound) for hours later. Having thoughts of a million baby spiders hatching inside my wound and pooping in my blood. Update: spider has still not re-emerged.
5. Feeling that, although the crutches minimise food intake, I might get incredibly fat just lying/sitting around all day, and envisioning my future in a documentary in which they have to cut me out of my chair and use a crane to lift me out of my house due to extreme obesity.
6. Getting Drunk - Having nothing to do means getting drunk is a more frequent activity. Not super drunk - just tipsy enough to find things amusing. This is fine when done from the safety of my own (Mother's) home, but if I am taken on an outing that requires using my crutches after a few drinks, I am extremely unsteady. Luckily, no one imagines me to be drunk at midday on a Tuesday so, people assume I'm wobbly because of my injury, and not because I drank three double gin and tonics on an empty stomach and am now navigating my way back to the table with extra bad balance and battling through my own version of The Beach montage, in which Leo is off his tits running through the jungle.
7. Dropping Things - If I drop something, or knock something off a counter, it's gone forever. I have found peace with the loss of many hairbands, snacks, coins. The risk of death whilst trying to balance and squat my way down to the floor is far too high. Now I just whisper "goodbye my friend, thanks for the memories" and move on with my life.
8. Social Life - My friends in Cardiff had already nicknamed me 'The Lone Wolf' for my flakiness and tendency to go off the grid for weeks at a time. But now I think they all suspect me dead. It's really hard to get about when you can't drive but also don't live in walking distance to public transport. "Have a drink for me" and "I'll catch you next time" are now saved templates in my messaging. Add to that the minimal phone signal at my house and I may as well be a myth. I will return to the real world next year, go on without me and await the Joey re-birth in 2017.
9. Dating - When your Tinder profile sells you as an active, enthusiastic outdoorsy type but in reality you can't walk, things get a bit awkward. Especially when a sit down date, looking at each other and eating is the most alien thing in the world to you. This results in me dribbling sauce on my chin and talking absolute shite nervously for an hour before awkwardly crutching off to the toilet and swearing under my breath at my complete, incomprehensible idiocy for thinking I could pull off a date in this state.
10. Jobs - Since I am apparently fit to work and therefore receive no disability benefits, I have pretty much been unemployed for seven months. I have applied for, and been offered no less than four jobs, all of which I have ultimately had to turn down because I have been told I need more surgery, or am unable to drive, or am too full of chemicals to be trusted in a work environment. Which leads me onto money. Oh money, I remember you, bits of paper and shiny coins deeming me able or unable to participate in the outside world, depending on that little minus sign on my bank app. I have become extremely thrifty in these trying times. I recently made bunting out of one of my dresses as a gift to a friend, because being naked seemed far more feasible thing than actually buying a present. I've lost all previous inhibitions about asking for more hot water for my pot of tea when I'm out. I am now getting pretty good at eating an entire meal stealthily out of my handbag when 'going out for lunch' -what's a bit of indigestion if I am able to save seven precious pounds? I'm about thirty more pounds into my overdraft from just lurking around cash points and hoping someone forgets to take their cash. Of course I'd have to shout after them for the sake of my crushing conscience, but hey, they might lob 2p at me in thanks/disgust.
Yes, it's been a bit shit, but seeing the funny side of it certainly helps. And other people having a laugh at my expense is somehow more comforting than sympathy. So big thanks to; Nia and Tess, who find me a constant source of comedy, Mum who nearly pissed herself when I dropped an entire bag of frozen peas on the floor and then nearly fell over them, Dad who calls a cripple and gives me a paralysing leg squeeze at every opportunity, and my nephew who calls me Jo-bot and tries to get me to chase him, all the time cackling at my pathetic inability to keep up. You all rock.
I will also take this opportunity to acknowledge a man who I once witnessed running, yes RUNNING on crutches. James Kitto, you are an inspiration to us all.
