Might not be more than a record of what I’m doing every day but I think I need somewhere to keep this stuff, so I’ve set up a new category on here called ‘derby hurts’. It might be handy for other ailing roller derby people when they break their ankles. I know I was googling madly as soon as it happened.
On the way to the loo this morning I did a little bit of something. It’s really hard when you’re used to doing exercise to suddenly do nothing.
10 wall press ups
10 one-legged squats
10 backwards leg raising glute thingies (I’m sure they have a name)
I’m going to try and do some more this afternoon. It’ll be easier when I’ve had the bones pinned back together but in the meantime these were just to keep me from going insane. And they were bloody hard work.
Can’t believe I passed mins, was all set for tryouts for the B team, was working SO hard on fitness and skills and this happened. Stupid ankle.
Anyway here are my exciting things for today. When I say exciting, I mean they’re what we call Derby Exciting around here (which is the best kind), as opposed to Normal Exciting (you know like kittens and flowers and a new series of something exciting on television).
Thing one: KNEE SCOOTERS. Who knew. Look at this. Once I’m post-op, and have my proper cast on, I can scootle around with a little basket and go to the shops and buy stuff. Or at least make dinner and do something constructive.
Thing two: Tell the derby world you’ve broken yourself and you make a whole new gang of friends who’re in the same boat. It’s like a secret club.
Thing three: I had a shower. GO ME. I am clean and shiny and smell of butterflies and happy things. Previous to this I smelled of hospitals and manky old shoes and grub.
In the interests of making this a fully rounded roller derby blog, I’m currently undertaking some research into dislocated and broken ankles. This research has so far been conducted from the floor of our training hall (not that comfortable), from an ambulance (well, hello morphine, it’s lovely to meet you) and from a hospital bed.
What nobody mentions about derby injuries is that you’re more than likely going to end up on the orthopaedic ward of the hospital alongside lots of elderly ladies with broken hips. Turns out elderly ladies don’t much like having broken hips, and will spend many hours each day trying to escape from bed, shouting crossly at the nurses that they’ve had enough of this and want to go home, and in one case screaming blue murder and throwing custard as a protest. And we have the reputation as derby girls? I sat peacefully in bed drinking cups of tea and taking all the good drugs.
So what happened? Well, we were in training. I wasn’t even skating, I was chatting to a friend and turned around to talk to the coach and my legs just sort of tangled up and floomp I was falling and I never, ever want to hear that crack again. I knew straight away that it was broken. Everyone was amazing. My lovely Irn Bru’ises came to hospital in the ambulance with my derby wife Cali Floor’Ya following by car. They kept my spirits up (a lot easier to keep your spirits up when you’re on major pain relief) and held my hand whilst I waited to be examined. Then they held me down whilst the doctor put my ankle back in place (I’d take childbirth over a broken ankle any day, and one of my four was over 9lb and born at home).
Next day I was back to the fracture clinic where the consultant told me I’d made a pretty good job of breaking my ankle – two breaks and a dislocation. And they can’t operate yet because they have to wait for the swelling to go down, so I’m home now and on bed rest with my foot raised until the end of the week.
I was going to write more but codeine has made my brain go all fizzly. So I’ll keep you posted. Ow.