13. Crocked!

There isn’t an awful lot you can do in a ski resort when you’re crocked, particularly if the lower part of your body is affected. Walking or hobbling on uneven snow with ice lurking beneath the surface is not conducive to getting around. The desire or goal has to be quite significant to warrant taking the risk of another fall and few events are that enticing.

I’m two weeks in to a period of incarceration, of my own making I will admit, but trying to minimise the distance to be walked in ski-boots was a reasonable aim in my humble opinion. Hopefully, I am beginning to heal and it’s not just the medication making me slightly more mobile and agile.

I finally succumbed after 8 days of pretty excruciating pain and paid a call to the doctor at the medical centre, who also happens to live adjacent to the chalet. I don’t think our logoed uniform did me any harm in terms of ingratiation and attention. I didn’t mention it but Dr Robert did suggest that he’d better rule out all possibilities as we are neighbours. No cracks or fractures were revealed on X-ray so just stronger pain killers and anti-inflammatories were prescribed, along with a couple of homeopathic remedies for bruising which I must confess, I haven’t consumed since the first dose. The bruising, whilst spectacular, had stopped causing any real problems by that time as the pain had transferred around to my lower back and I wanted to focus on being able to do the work shifts with less pain. Paracetamol and Ibuprofen hadn’t really touched it but Voltarol (with stomach protection) and codine (with paracetamol) certainly started to have an impact, maybe assisted by the crutches, even if I only use 1 for distances.

The third storey is perhaps not the best location to reside when partially immobilised but probably enforced my rehabilitation regime as the six sets of stairs had to be negotiated twice a day, in both directions, followed by another set of outside steps to go back up after the three floor descent, or vice-versa, which was rather frustrating.

I quickly learnt to step around the 180 degree turn on the way down the stairs and not pivot on the affected side, resulting in the destruction of that cocky feeling most mornings, that I was maybe a little better.

Roger would go ahead, as I was so slow, and take the van up to the bread shop, after digging/scraping/chipping it out. He’d then pick me up on the way back down the road, at the end of the driveway, to where I would have waddled, like a pregnant duck, in the interim. I finally mastered getting up into the front seat at this time. Something with which I’d struggled even prior to getting crocked, but was leading with the wrong leg!

Luckily he was able to get the van up the drive at the chalet to park as close as possible due to the 3-4 feet bank of snow blocking the doorway. He had created a path down through this depth which helped, but was still daunting. He went in front and I clung onto the back of his jacket, trying to step in his footprints. This seemed to work until some guests had the audacity to have a snowball fight right outside the door and trashed the steps he had carefully carved in the steep bottom section.

For the first time I was relieved to have a small kitchen, totally inadequate when catering for 14 people, but now I could reach a work surface at all times. My only real hitch was that the only toilets available to us (i.e. not en-suite) are on the floor above or below, which is also where the store cupboards are located. I must confess to sneaking in to one of the ground floor bedrooms to avail myself of their facilities a couple of times. They seemed like nice clean people and I did leave heir bathroom how I found it.

It has been a massive relief to get back to the flat, both morning and evening each day, to collapse on the bed until the throbbing and discomfort subsides but has meant that this is how I have spent the past 2 weeks, working or lying down. So much for all the healthy exercise! Apres at Undies on Wednesdays (day off) has been crucial for retention of sanity. I also went in for the evening shift via Indiana last Sunday as the 6 Nations has started so I gave Roger a late pass to watch the end of the England/Italy match and went back to the chalet early to begin the meal. This Sunday (yesterday) our lovely guests overheard our argument as to who would get to stay out later and watch the end of the Scotland/France match (the former team being the only one I’m really interested in) and insisted that we move the meal time back so we could both watch it. This also meant that I could get door-to-door transport, as the previous week I’d had to catch the bus down whilst he was still watching the game, despite my infirmity!

Anyway, fingers crossed, my back/hip is starting to feel better. I’ll try without all the drugs on day-off to see how it responds and may be able to consider putting my skis on again next week, although I don’t think I’ll try skiing back to the building again, I’ll just have to walk the last section. I’m not going to risk falling off a steep bank into the road again, hopefully, ever.

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2 Responses to 13. Crocked!

  1. Caroline Jones says:

    Poor you, this sounds horrendous! Can’t you come home to recover properly? I’ll look after you! x

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