Crutches are the WORST
Short background story: I was a hyper, weird child.
Even as a youth I had aimless ambitions that changed by the minute. Nowadays we refer to that as ADHD and clearly I should've been medicated but growing up in a teeny tiny town with only one physician made it somewhat difficult. Besides, my parents weren't terribly bothered by my behavior because I was hilariously entertaining.
Some might say I was a child "who loved the spotlight" and while I'm not arguing with that, I do want to clarify that my audience was severely limited and competing with the American Girl crew of Kirsten, Samantha and Felicity was an easy task. (Please note that I do not like Molly because she stole my attention with her eye glasses and my mother refused to believe me when I complained of going blind in the first grade.)
During the many years of performing my one woman show I want to say luck was on my side because I rarely got injured. I want to say that but the truth is I was a wild child who refused to be held back by Ace bandages and stitches...unless it would add to the flare of my act. One time I attempted to ramp the outdoor shrubs on my new pink Huffy bicycle that I won in a Bike-A-Thon.
My attempt failed and I went straight through the window. All I can recall are painful stitches and hearing my eldest sister say the "F" word for the first time. No broken bones.
A short time later I was close lined when driving my friend's 4-wheeler. I didn't see the clothesline nor hear my friend repeatedly yelling "DUCK!!" over the increasing sound of the engine. I ran straight into it with my neck and did a back flip off the 4-wheeler. Luckily, my nose softened the fall when it hit the back metal cargo area and I bit a hole in my tongue. No broken bones.
I hit a tree while snow skiing in Santa Fe and was carried down in a body bag. No broken bones.
I was flung through my friend's newly renovated bedroom wall when we tried to sumo wrestle with her parents Euro shams. Huge drywall hole. No broken bones.
I drove my friend's scooter in the side of her brick house when I got confused about which direction to turn the throttle handle to slow down. No broken bones.
TOP SECRET: I desperately wanted crutches during those years. Something about the significance of the injury that only crutch users went through made my 8 year old heart extremely jealous. I never intentionally injured myself but that didn't stop me from make shifting my own casts and devices for my own pity party. In case you are curious: the wood slats that held up my twin bed made terrific balance beams AND crutches when wrapped properly.
I could go on about various accidentals but to arrive at the purpose of this post I must jump ahead to present time. I had to buy my first real set of crutches this week and I was NOT impressed.
The injury occurred as I was jogging on the treadmill at the gym listening to my Dave Ramsey podcast. Before you conclude that I am runner let me clarify that I was on the Couch to 5K app in the 3rd run going at a rapid 4.0mph. I hate running. I've tried for years to enjoy it but I get so bored (not surprising). I've quit the Couch to 5K app at least 15 times since 2007 but decided I would try again. Ten minutes in of the "Day 1 of Week 1" workout I felt this snap in my left calf. I immediately straddled the sides and almost face planted because it was excruciatingly painful to bear any weight on my left leg. Once the machine came to a stop I began contemplating how I was going to escape the gym and get to my car without looking like a drama queen.
WHO HAVE I BECOME?!?
This would have been a dream moment twenty three years ago but instead of having the desire to be carried out by the gym staff I played it cool by looking on my phone when people would walk by me then hobbling a few steps en route to my car.
I googled the nearest urgent care because I knew this was more than a cramp or lack of stretching. Fast forward an hour later, I was released with three prescriptions, a diagnosis of some calf tear/strain/sprain and a shiny pair of crutches to be used for seven days.
Guys. CRUTCHES ARE THE WORST WHEN YOU ARE INJURED.
I mean, how do you even use them without looking like a baby deer on cocaine? How do you carry things? How do you open freaking doors? It was awful. I couldn't even figure out how to wear my cross body bag so I just hung it around my neck but realized I was unintentionally strangling myself. The worst part was that I had to go pick up my prescriptions at Walgreens as a ginormous thunderstorm rolled in. Not trying to sound dramatic but I felt so helpless. Even more so than I did when my right hand was out of commission for three months after my thumb got bit off when I tried to break up a dog fight. (Different story for a different day but spoiler alert: that was the first and last time I technically broke a bone).
I kept dropping all of my items in the pharmacy aisles and almost started to cry when I realized I couldn't carry ice cream, a box of cereal and a can of Pringles at the same time.
I wanted to hit a man with my new crutch when he stopped me outside of Walgreens (IN THE THUNDERSTORM). At first, he warned me of the slippery ground then offered to help carry my bags. It was when he asked me for money that the lightening bolts shot out from eyes.
I eventually made it home and our Dropcam caught my arrival inside the house. I looked like a soaking wet troll hobbling around the dark. I was instructed not to "overdo it" and I've tried to stay still but I can't get the crutches to work right and my dogs are scared of them. I'm going to start applauding people when I see them on crutches because my one hour experience with them made me realize that it is no joke.
Also, my mother eventually took me to the eye doctor who declared my eyesight was 20/200. Basically I was blind. She later told me how terrible she felt when we walked out of the eye doctor's office after picking up my new glasses and I said, "Look! There are leaves on the tree!" I told you I couldn't see.