Wednesday, July 22, 2009

The Longest Week Of My Life...still going strong

Am I the first person to wear an ankle brace to a bar?

I've somehow managed to bruise my foot in new ways since I've started limping around on it and attempting to go about my business. It has been 8 days, and I only began awkwardly limping around on Monday. I feel like I've been bed-ridden for at least a month. As much as I want to prolong my time here in Dublin, I'd almost trade going home tomorrow with a healthy ankle then be forced to live another week like this past one: a prisoner in my apartment, watching the calendar like a time bomb as my precious final days expire and I remain unchanged. I have been trying my damnedest to re-hab my foot, (outside of the whole walking on it and going out thing). I sleep with my foot on top of a suitcase, I have ice packs, 2 different ankle braces, crutches would be ideal but they don't have any at my Uni Health Center (WTF!) Being that my health insurance expired in May when I was supposed to go home, I have been reluctant to go to the hospital. Also there really is no need, I don't need an X-Ray or anything, and all they would do is prod me then tell me to RICE it. (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation). Crutches though, would help. Or would have. I don't know. I've been walking on it so I don't need crutches but at the same time I know I am prolonging my recovery time because I've been walking around.

It is the oddest injury as well, my ankle has full mobility, but the bruising around it and all over my foot is so fierce that whenever I try and walk I feel pressure and pain. Plus I recently realized there is a dark bruise the size of my thumb on the bottom of my foot. Ouch. I can't win.

It's also clear that in my frustration I prematurely began walking on it. I would love to post pictures of the progression of "healing" of my ankle and foot (a.k.a. new bruises arbitrarily appearing everyday) but I neglected to mention that along with my ankle and dignity, my camera was also smashed to bits last week on that same night.

No more pictures for my last few weeks here. I'm not too bummed. I've taken plenty over the last 7 months, and I need a new camera anyway. No way I'm going to purchase one in euros over here though, just going to wait til I get home. Plus, having a camera around can become a bit of a burden. You end up fixating upon "capturing" the moment without actually living in it.


Craftiest Crackhead Award

This happened weeks ago and I forgot to write about it. By now you all know I am super paranoid when I'm out and about in town. Recall how my sister had her wallet stolen on Grafton St. while we were sitting eating lunch back in March by one tricky bitch (she was caught weeks later and the Garda called me, but my sister still lost all her stuff). Also recall the incident with that old creeper in Galway back in February, and my general derangement from too many episodes of 24.

So I was walking around "enjoying the sunshine" as my friend had advised me so wholeheartedly to do ( ;) ...Alyson). I was on Grafton St. in the middle of the day. Grafton was in full swing - sun, musicians, toursits galore, laughter, "Free hugs", ice cream, everyone strolling and enjoying the afternoon. I was wandering aimlessly as per usual and was planning to pick up some post cards then sit at a cafe and write and watch people. I tucked into a Newstand on the street and began browsing the postcards. Nothing new or exciting, all the postcards looked like they were from the 80s. I turned to leave. As I did so, I was startled by a woman that had suddenly appeared within close proximity to me, standing directly behind me. I smiled apologetically and began to turn to exit. As I did, this complete stranger shouted at me, pointing her finger only inches away from my face "WHY DO YOU CALL OTHER WOMEN SLUTS?!?!?" (I'm serious.)

I really am very well trained by now. Without any reaction or hesitation I tightened my grip around my purse and bolted out onto the busy street, weaving in and out of the gleeful shoppers. Despite the general buzz of voices and laughter I continued to hear this woman yelling after me. "WHY DO YOU CALL OTHER WOMEN SLUTS!? LOOK AT YOURSELF!" and other such nonsense. Unreal! However I would bet that this woman was impressed with how quickly I sped away from her. Pretty startling to be approached in such a manner and literally screamed at by a total stranger. People surrounding me must have thought I was some horrible homewrecker, as she was making quite a scene. Fair play to you, crazy crackhead - but you don't know who you're dealing with. If I weren't already unbelievably paranoid, you might have had me. I'm convicned of course that she was trying to steal from me, or cause a scene, distract me, maybe had some other crackhead accomplice watching, maybe she just wanted to fight me...I don't know, not trying to get inside the mind of a crazy woman anyway...my own is neurotic enough. Still, that wins the crazy award so far.


Now.

After some rain, the sky has cleared. It's gorgeous out. I'm sitting with my leg up icing it and robotically taking ibuprofen as I have been over the last few days. Recovery sucks, but it does make me appreciate everything more instead of just going through life in a desensitized, elated blur of pints, friends, music, and cafes. When I walk now, despite the limp, I feel more alive. When I took a bus into town for the first time in a week, I felt the excitement and pace of the city that I had become all too accustomed to. It was refreshing. I can only hope that this feeling persists and that I don't take my legs or anything for granted as I have in the past. Maybe this was a good thing in the long run. We'll have to wait and see.

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