Observation: Humans and their foibles
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Sports Injury AKA Is This My Body Saying, “Juju, Maybe This Recent Fad of Regular Training Isn’t Really You?”
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4cm wide internal bruise on right calf and the blogger hobbles.
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Going for a late evening mini jog last week caused a sports injury to yours truly. Nothing severe mind you. A sensation of sudden ‘pinging’ inside the leg, akin to something being brushed harshly on outside of right calf.
Diagnosis: Right calf injury, 4cm internal bruise, aka rupture of the gastrocnemius or soleus muscle (without Google I wouldn’t be quoting these words in this manner, guilty and fine about it).
What am I to do without regular twice-sometimes-thrice-weekly sessions alongside sweaty alpha males Please see earlier blog on boxing if you have no idea what I am harking on about, for fear this may sound a little bit like I am regularly partaking in nawty nocturnals to cope in recession – a thought that is starting to be taken more seriously (internally). No big deal, right?
While they’re not getting laid, aren’t footballers laid up for weeks with serious injuries? Difference is, they have servants serving / kneeding / pampering.
So OK, we had been suffering for some days, but really not taking it seriously. Just under a week later, I take myself to All Stars for my fix, do the warm up, do the pads and then it’s skip skipping time…not an intelligent move. That ‘pang’ feeling happened again, rather akin to the sound of a spring popping in a mattress…Properly hurt, found some ice, tried to stand on it, not happening. Apparently my face was ‘pale grey’ and I looked like I was about to pass out – hobbled back, having decided not to take the car to class that evening. An ironic rarity.
Frozen peas, elevated leg and spasming through body. Had been advised to do the peas, elevation thing three days earlier and had ignored.
Lovely new friend Aimee di Marco is a doctor at St Mary’s – we met through boxing and she witnessed my faint visage…said she would organise an ultrasound scan. Love useful friends – a bonus.
The next day was ruled out for a visit to A&E due to a ‘filming’ day with a friend who is trying to get a documentary idea commissioned by heads of TV on a miracle worker. Said miracle worker with angel wings is Gali, who makes wigs and sadly I have met her after my mother recently underwent chemotherapy..., no way I was going to cancel the day, a lady with alopecia since the age of 12 for hers, and the angel herself…So I was a wobbly and moaning assistant for the day, with spasming through my body head-to-toe, simultaneously experiencing out-of-body occurrences, with no drug assistance.
The following morning, fabulous Nikki (aka Nikki Busmate) collected and transported to St Mary’s. Great service with a smile and I was discharged, being told to rest up and carry on popping ibuprofen and no sport for at least two weeks. Doctor buddy Aimee said not to leave the premises. SHO Damian kept running to the waiting room in his busy day, updating me on availability of scanner and I was treated impeccably – Bupa-style-service-on-the-freebie health service- thoroughly recommendable.
By 1pm I was limping up to 3rd floor with Damian leading the way (trained perfectly by Aimee) to Dr Dick – and kneeled elegantly on all fours with gel being smoothed over achilles and calf. It was then that we were informed of internal bloody huge bloody bruise. Fortunately no tear, no crutches and big special needs black boot with velcro required.
Still spasming, still house-bound, but we are taking slow steps to recovery. Friends are delivering groceries. Am slowly observing an out-of-body realization; not sure training is what body is aching for. How about I start training in the same way as I drive, visualising toned bod as I visualise parking spaces.
(Boxing boys I’ll be back soon).
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