The Three Fractures

It seems like there is an audience that lapped up my embarrassing experience at a coffee shop, so I can happily write about the three bleeding times I suffered a fracture to the foots. Their sole purpose in life must have been to make me undoubtedly fat and serve as today’s topic for writing. A good lot that did.

Right, let’s see if I can remember the first two fractures perfectly. The third one happened last month, so I have no problem remembering that. I believe I do have something of an eidetic memory. I think.

The First Fracture

This happened at the tail end of April.

This happened about the time I had just finished eighth grade and was happily enjoying my summer holidays. Back then, I was in a small town called Tirunelveli, where everyone knew everyone by virtue of being a small town. We were packing up for a family wedding in Chennai and I was all dressed up, ready and raring to depart on my favorite part of the journey, the train.

Apparently, my dad wanted me to ask my mom about switching off all the lights and fans and he was outside. Me being the hyperactive brat that I was during that time, ran fast and did a sliding motion on the tiles.

That was my undoing.

The slide went out of control and resulted in me tripping and falling down on the floor. While I did get up without any help, my leg was in unbearable (well, for that time) pain. We couldn’t see a doctor since our train would depart in a few minutes. My mom made some home made remedies that kind of soothed the swelling and the pain that would hound my train ride.

After reaching Chennai, we went straight to a hospital and got my left leg examined. It was there that I learnt about what the hell a “Hairline Crack’ meant. It was a slight fracture, but not so severe as to be labelled a serious, full-blown fracture. Still, the doctor recommended that I stay in a cast for at least a month.

That cast rendered me immobile for a month and subjected me to a embarrassing sponge bath. I spent the rest of my holidays on a bed, hopping on one good foot here and there for food and the bio-break.

The only good thing that came out of the first fracture was me discovering my love for novels, since I finished my first novel “The Thirty Nine Steps” by John Buchan during that time. It’s a gripping read for fans of slow-boiling thrillers and fans of John Le Carre will find it entertaining.

The downside? I got fat.

The Second Fracture

I haven’t the foggiest as to how this fracture happened.

The only few things that I remember is that this fracture was on the right foot, rather than the left and I went to school with a cast for a week. Let’s just say that I got this fracture because of a bicycle accident. Yeah, that sounds reasonable.

I do remember my right leg subjected to the horrors of a Plaster of Paris cast and me having to take some tablets for calcium deficiency. Kind of explains the “hairline crack” that I received in the right foot this time around.

I don’t remember much about this fracture, other than my History teacher chiding me for receiving a fracture the second time around. I think I told her about the first fracture, which makes sense for her to chide me again. I remember hopping helter skelter around school with the help of my friends.

The silver lining? More books and a PC Game. I remember being into R.L Stine around that time in ninth grade and playing a lot of “Thief: Deadly Shadows” which incited my love for stealth games, gradually leading into greats like Hitman, Splinter Cell and the lot.

The downside? I got fat. Again.

The Third Fracture

This happened last month of all times.

I was finishing a personal job back at my home town and reached Chennai around 6:00 AM. I took a ride on the Metro from Alandur to Meenambakkam, after which I proceeded to walk it all the way home. This entailed me walking through a subway and up a steep flight of stairs.

Those stairs proved to be my undoing this time.

My sandals tripped against those steps, which resulted in me falling down the stairs and somehow hurting my leg again. While it was kind of painful, I somehow legged it all the way back home. I assumed it would just be a temporary bruise and survived Saturday. The orthopedist in my area would only come in on Sunday, so I survived Saturday.

Come Sunday and evening, I made it to the ortho and he diagnosed that my left foot had suffered a full-blown fracture as opposed to the hairline cracks that I received prior to this. Once again, this meant subjecting my leg to a cast, it was a fiberglass cast this time around, which meant my cast felt lighter this time around.

The upshot? Five weeks of paid leave, writing more for my blog and getting into “The Brothers Karamazov” by Fyodor Dosteovsky, a slow read it may be.

After five weeks, they removed my cast by means of a electric cutter since fiberglass casts don’t break that easily. I will tell you this, feeling the earth under my left foot after a month made me smile like a baby. It felt so weird and I was so happy.

The downside? For there will be always be downsides.

I got fat again and a trip I had been planning to Rajasthan with my friends went down the garbage chute after the doctor banned me from walking for long distances for a week. I had to do physiotherapy at his hospital for a week, which cost me a hefty sum.

Oh well.

If there is a lesson to be learnt from this dear reader, it’s this.

Never,ever get a fracture. All it will do is kill you with boredom and make you fat.