Last Thursday started out as quite the usual day for me. Too bad, life had other plans for my near future. At around ten forty-five(ish) I avoided someone holding a scalding cup of coffee, but when I when to avoid the next one with a full plate of something – I had a spectacular fall and dislocated my right knee cap.
How very wonderful, isn’t it?
UGH THE PAIN.
At first it seemed like I’d just slipped and fallen, no biggie, happens. Then came the part where I could not stand. That’s when people got alarmed. It soared through the roof when they saw that my kneecap was not in the centre as it should be, oh no, but rather disturbingly to the right.
I could see the outline of my dislocated knee through my skinny jeans and it was then the tears started freefalling, fuck, that pain was bad but then, I decided it was too weird to have a kneecap on the right and deliberately pushed it back into the socket. By then, a couple of people had gone hunting for my friends to get them to me. The guy in front of me seemed very mystified and shocked at the same time at my guts or foolishness, we didn’t know that yet.
My friends turn up, one of them with a sprained foot of her own and then the agonizing pain hits.
The worst wasn’t even here yet. Staff turns up, people in charge are informed. AND THEN THEY GET A STRETCHER.
Seriously, they get me a stretcher to have me taken to the hospital, seeing as I’m crying my eyes out, howling in pain and am in clearly no position to stand.
I’m not sure you get my point here – a stretcher, through the college’s most crowded place, during the most crowded time – the foyer, during the 10:30 break.
But I was overruled. Crying eighteen-year olds don’t get to make decisions.
I’m carted on the stretcher, sitting, clutching that one juice cup my friend forced on me to distract me, in a sitting position, just so I could watch my dignity float away.
Sigh. Of course, I was injured and that should’ve been the farthest thing from my mind, but hey, I was a teenager. So, sue me.
They almost take me through the middle of the place but thankfully change their minds. At this point, I’m still sobbing, my knee is on fire (in the most painful way) and I’m yelling for my friends who are coming with, yet still laughing at my sorry state.
I don’t blame them; I would’ve laughed at me too.
We get to the hospital, and I can safely say I’ve never been prouder to be a part of my college. They took me to get medical attention, got my leg X-Rayed, got me a crepe bandage and offered to accompany me home. Thankfully, I didn’t have to bother them anymore because my friend turned up and said she’d take me (she’d been in lectures until then). They even paid for my cab ride home – that’s more than 37 kilometres.
I came to my place, went to a hospital that put in a very uncomfortable knee brace and sent me off to get an MRI. My friend offered to stay with me because the hospital I was admitted to had an archaic rule of not letting males stay with patients. I went for an excruciatingly long MRI and got severely bored. By then, people had started texting me. I think they were worried I’d died.
My friend who’s come down from the States for the vacations came over to stay with me and we had an odd sleepover of sorts. I say of sorts, because the nurses and the nuns didn’t let me sleep. Neither did that acute pain, of course.
I got discharged the next morning with the doc saying I had a minor patella fracture.
And now it’s been a week since I’ve been delegated to bed rest and missing three weeks of college. It sucks, especially cause Malhar is just around the corner.
I’m slowly getting back on my feet (metaphorically) and doing the things expected of me. I’ve got a major case of FOMO – Fear Of Missing Out on stuff that everyone is busy doing.
Clearly, just because my knee is busted and my life has almost come to a standstill, others are still moving on.
But hey, I’m getting better and it’s just two more weeks. And then I walk into CIA One.
Until next time,
P.S – If you thought this was an exciting post, sorry, I like to write down these things as sort of a virtual diary. And my friend Christina made a rather spectacular pun on Twitter the day I fell: TWEET. Other than that, have a great day / night!