Hang-gliding. Parasailing. Cliff-diving. Skiing, both snow and water. Roller-blading, bike-riding, tractor-pulling, ballroom dancing, skateboarding, ice-skating, walking barefoot on a carpet and slipping and slamming one’s foot into a chair leg, tobogganing, sledding, playing sports, climbing on roofs, mountain climbing, spelunking, tree-climbing.
Now which of these sure-fire methods of breaking a bone do you think happened to me?
Knowing me, you probably guessed correctly the first time. Barefoot, slipped on the carpet, rolled my foot and hit it on a wooden chair leg. It didn’t even hurt at first. Truthfully, I am so clumsy that I barely noticed it happened. Until about two hours later.
My foot started to hurt a little bit. Then it started to hurt a lot. Then it started to resemble the foot of a plant-eating dinosaur. The swelling was my first indication that perhaps maybe I should go to the ER. I would like to add that this accident occurred on the third night of our vacation. Luckily we were home and not somewhere tropical.
So I woke George up and told him we had to go to the ER. By this time, my foot was easily three times its normal size. Now, the ER in any hospital is not a pleasant place for obvious reasons, but in the wee hours of a Tuesday, it fills up with some odd people, to say the very least.
There was a large family there, probably at least three generations, complete with a toddler who felt the need to attempt to climb into every wastepaper basket in the waiting room. This family talked a lot. Really, really loudly. Like, REALLY LOUDLY.
Then there was a young guy, who apparently had a bit too much to drink. This dude decided to lie on the floor with a basin next to him and moan and mutter. Occasionally he would make loud use of the basin. Again, REALLY LOUD.
Fast-forward… I broke my foot in two places and was given an aircast to wear. Here’s what I learned throughout this experience: if you have an air cast on, people have one of two reactions to you. The first one is to open doors for you, lend a hand when you’re carrying packages or climbing stairs, and in general, act very solicitously towards you.
The second one is to stare. I mean, stare hard. They look at how you are walking (a not-so-graceful rolling walk), then they eye you up and down to see what your problem is. When they spot the cast, they just stare at it and then you. It’s weird.
I didn’t need crutches, thank goodness. But the boot made it hard to walk any distance. It was a bit heavy. I wanted to go to the boardwalk. The only way I could go is if I sat in a wheelchair and George pushed me. George refused to push me in a wheelchair.
He knew, after 34 years of wedded bliss, that we would argue the entire time, all the way down the boardwalk. Example:
Me: Make a left. A left! Your other left!
George: (shoving me and the wheelchair into a large crowd of people) See you later.
So my son Donnie brought me home this scooter-type apparatus, lent to him by a co-worker. You kneel on it with your bad leg and then push off with your good leg. This scooter came complete with a little basket for your belongings and a little bell on the handlebars. Donnie and George scooted easily all over the house on this thing, ringing the bell and having a fine old time.
I tried it. Once. Suffice it to say, I was not good at it. Not good at all. Merely getting the thing to move forward was a challenge, not to mention ringing the bell, too.
I smacked into our hallway, almost fell off the scooter, and that was the end of that idea.
So I wore the boot, didn’t go to the boardwalk, and bought long skirts that effectively hid said boot. The foot healed well and I am fine now, thankfully.
But every now and then I miss wearing my boot. Especially when my arms are full of packages.
Ilene Black has been a resident of Ewing for most of her life and lives across the street from her childhood home. She and her husband, George, have two sons, Georgie, 32, and Donnie, 28. A licensed soccer coach, Black was the long-time head of the boys’ travel soccer program in Ewing and ran the township’s annual Labor Day Soccer Tournament for several years. She is the creator and moderator of a Facebook group called, “You Know You’re a Ewingite When…,” which has more than 1,000 members.
