I bet you'll all be queuing up for a shoe like this - it's the latest fashion
So, I was up at an unearthly hour to get me there for my 9.15am appointment. Ninewells is between 35-40 miles from Montrose and we were going in with the early morning traffic which meant we left at 7.30am, which also meant I had to be out of bed at 5.30am to make the 5 mile walk to the bathroom and back – washing and dressing takes an eternity, never mind getting breakfast. So off we went, and due to travel delays I was only 15 minutes early for the appointment.
However, I was taken straight away, and it was into the plaster room for me with some lovely nurses, one of whom cut off my bandages and dressings to reveal a rather puffy foot with two rows of stitches. One row pointed towards my big toe, and the other to one of my other toes at the other side of my foot. Gulp! I thought I only had one set of stitches. The nurse advanced on me with some scissors and tweezer like instruments and I immediately turned my eyes away to look at the wall in the corner of the room. Amazing how fascinating walls can become at times like this. Then there was the snip and pull and a sharp sensation – Ouch! Then the same again on the second row of stitches. One of the nurses kindly offered to hold my hand, but by the time I thought about it the stitches were out.
Phew! I was glad that was over. The next thing was a creamy coloured bandage type sleeve was put on my foot, and then I was asked what colour I wanted my plaster. Colour? I thought plasters came in basic white. So I said, ‘What colours have you got?’ She gave me a choice of white, black, green, pink or purple. So I had purple.
My beautiful purple soft plaster bootee
Now I always thought plasters were those solid white concrete looking things that encased you from hip to foot. But she explained it would be a plaster bootee. Mmm, that didn’t sound so bad, much preferable to what I had imagined.
Got my shoe on now but you can only see the velcro fastenings from the top
Next thing I was expecting some kind of mini-cement mixer to make the plaster, but it was nothing like that. She produced what looked like a roll of netting bandage, immersed it in a bowl of liquid, and proceeded to wrap it round my foot. It was lovely and warm. I was then asked what colour of shoe I would like with another choice of colours, better match it up to the trainer on my other foot, I thought, which was grey and not a colour they did. So I wound up with a black one.
The latest in fashion footwear, the black plastic shoe (flip flop)
But did I say shoe? More like flip flop, and it is the most awkward thing imaginable to put on your foot because, until you fasten the Velcro straps on the top, it keeps flipping off and is the most difficult thing to get to stay in place long enough to fasten the straps. I’m starting to get the knack of it now, but it’s still awkward.
Then with strict instructions not to put my foot to the ground for half an hour to allow time for the plaster to set, I was ejected from the clinic. Luckily we’d brought along my daughter-in-law’s wheelchair, so we proceeded out of the hospital with my foot stretched out straight in front of the chair so it didn’t make contact with anything solid. Then it was a hop into the car, again keeping the foot in the air, and we were off.
The good thing was that when I got home I found that I could walk easily with the walking stick they gave me, so I got rid of the crutches. And boy, was I glad to see them go.
Anyway, after all my hopalong antics I’m thinking of taking up a second career as a circus acrobat.
Roll on the next five weeks when I can get rid of the cast completely.