Crutch

I went and got my splint and crutches today. Have you ever seen these splint thingies? I was thinking I'd maybe have yardsticks affixed to either side of my leg with masking tape or something. Turns out they lay you down on a gurney and then prop your leg up at the knee on what looks like one of those table-top ironing boards. Then they apply what feels like something made out of that evil morphy guy in the Terminator movie to the back of your leg. It's hot and wet and moulds to the shape of your bent leg. Your leg is then wrapped mummy style in tensor bandages and once everything had cooled and hardened you get to put your jeans back on and they get soaked. I was bound from mid-thigh to ankle.

"Here, have some crutches, SUCKER!" the nurse said to me in Korean. I think.

Then I was led to the fourth floor, otherwise known as the FIFTH floor for some physical therapy on my neck and shoulders. Like thirteen back home, four is the bad luck number here and it's eliminated in hospitals because of superstitions. I was instructed to lie down on a gurney beside a window. Again, a wonderful breeze made me feel content, and my head and shoulders were cushioned by this heated plushy pillow. I could have stayed there all day. Then I was flipped over and had twenty minutes worth of electrical pulse therapy. It felt weird at first, but then got to be quite nice. I think I'll get me some more of that tomorrow.

When I was in high school, my brother broke his leg playing hockey. For days after he got his cast on, I'd come home after school and find him in his room with things stuck down inside - pencils, rulers, a long barbecue fork - trying to reach the itchy parts. It was driving him nuts. On about the fifth day, I came home to find him with a hack saw stuck down in his cast. He couldn't reach the itch at the bottom of his foot, and he was angrily cutting himself free.

Well, turns out he lasted a hell of a lot longer than I did. Getting into a taxi made me realize how cumbersome having an unbending leg for a week was going to be. The splint dug painfully into my heel when I sat down, and gaped stupidly at the back of my thigh when I stood up. It was hot and itchy and unpleasant. Right after my first class finished, I went into an empty classroom, took my jeans off and de-splinted. I could not get the hang of walking on the crutches, anyhow. My mind would instruct my body, "two crutches and left leg together, okay - right leg, two crutches and left leg, right leg,..." but my body was spastically scuttling around like I suddenly had four legs that all needed to move at different times. I ended up walking stiff legged and carrying the crutches in my hand.

So I might as well have just gone to the hospital and handed them a hundred bucks to not do anything and jumped back in a cab to go to work. It kind of seemed they were insisting on demobilizing my leg just to BUG me anyhow. It kind of seems like everyone is existing these days just to bug me. I think they wake up in the morning and think, "Hmmmm. How can I bug Jenn if I happen to cross her path today?"

Maybe tomorrow they'll find someone else to annoy (and I'll be in a brighter mood). Bear with me, folks.