Injury at a Vintage Fair - oh the horror!

Well Hello... long time no blog. 


This is becoming a rather bad habit of mine. I never could commit to the whole teenage diary thing. I guess the modern day twenty-something cyber equivalent is no different!


So what's new? Erm...


Well, I'm still with my job at a local charity. Still with Tom. Still Hello Kitty/Zombie/Make-up/Pink mad!


I managed to injure myself pretty badly towards the end of March, on what should have been a really awesome day. I have problems with my joints. It's not just a weakness, but hypermobility. This means that where most people's joints will stretch out straight, mine have an extra 10% in their ability to bend backwards. It's worst in my knees, but also affects thumbs/fingers/wrists, elbows and hips.


If you find odd bodily injuries creepy and disgusting (like me, who unfortunately has to live with it anyway!) then you might wish to stop reading and then distract yourself with something cute on the intuhwebz.


I dislocate my knees often. I've been told it's more painful than a break, and that the more times it happens, the more likely I am to do it again due to weakening the ligaments. I've been told a lot of things about my crap body by fracture consultants and physiotherapists. There are several factors working against me to ensure that I am a prime candidate for a fast-track ticket to dislocation station, which I shall now list in a helpful bullet format:

1. The aforementioned hypermobility. This problem affects the way I stand. I shouldn't really be doing this but it is an unconscious thing - I have to check and correct myself every time I notice that I'm standing like a stork. Which Inotice a lot more now I'm aware of it and worried about it.
2. Over-pronation of the ankles. My ankle turn inwards. This again affects the way I stand (more on the inner part of my foot) and means that my joints are out of line. My hip, knee and ankle should be fairly straight when lined up from top to bottom - sort of like dot to dot. In fact, when I stand with feet spaced evenly apart under my hips, my knees turn too far inwards. This is why sometimes, when my knees try to escape from the joint, they are only trying to straighten themselves out where my balance and centre of gravity says they should be. Feel like looking up kittens on youtube yet?
3. I am a woman. Yes, it suck to be a girl sometimes. The female bone and muscle structure is a different shape in respect of hip spacing (wider apart for squeezing tiny human beans out of) and our inner thigh muscles are shorter, which only adds to the knees being slightly inwards. If you are a woman, you probably have a degree of this yourself. Think of a pair of man legs - find a male example for study and comparison if you wish. They are pretty much straight up and down. Now look at your own legs. They curve slightly more inwards from the hips, right? Also, female kneecaps are shallower, meaning they're easier to slip out.
4. I have dyspraxia. This is not strictly speaking a cause of my dislocated knees, but it certainly doesn't help! One of the problems I get from dyspraxia is that it affects my mobility and co-ordination. In simple terms, I'm super clumsy and awkward to the point of slapstick at times. A lot of the occasions where I dislocate a knee have been because of a slip, trip or fall. Wanna know the story of my latest accident? It's cringey, embarrassing, and a tiny bit scary.

It's not too late to turn back. You don't have to read any further - just click here

If not, read at your own peril...

I was at an event with my charity. It was one I'd been looking forward to for absolutely ages - a vintage fair! The day went fantastically before the accident. I'd been with a colleague to one of our charity shops the evening before to hand pick some treasures - this was something I'd been asked to do because of my keen interest, and it was a complete aladdin's cave moment for me. I found a Vintage working 1940's Singer dewing machine complete with case and accessories! 

I even lovingly washed the crockery, including this beautiful teaset which we later sold to a lady for her wedding reception:

On the day, we set up, and enjoyed the revellers dressed in their vintage finery, and the beautiful setting of the old town hall.

We were treated to music from an amazing swing trio called 'The Three Belles' and omnomnommed on some delicious cake.

We sold our raffle tickets and a fair few items. When it was my turn to have a lunch break, I was eagerly anticipating a good old rummage through the stalls for some goodies, before my sandwich and mini eggs, when I decided to nip to the ladies first. The gals were queuing to try on some stunning old frocks, and I was itching to go out and hunt for myself.

The next bit is the embarrassing part. I did what I had to do in the ladies, and as I was pulling my skinny jeans back up, my left knee just went. It was truly horrendous at the time. I screamed and collapsed against the stall door, unable to support myself. Now if you've read this far, well done. You are a brave and unsqueamish person. You might not like the next bit though.

Last bus to happyland here!

Sometimes my knee has more of a half dislocation, or blip, where it pops straight back in of its own accord. When it doesn't, I do it myself. Yes, I know. Cringe. It usually only takes me a few seconds. This time? I was writhing about on the floor with the lower half of my leg out at an odd angle for two minutes. Yes I know some of you may find that sickening. I'm not brave either, I was screaming my head off. I Startled a lot of people. Can't imagine what they thought I was doing in there.

When it was back in, I had a brief window of shock to move. I couldn't get help slumped against the door so I somehow pulled myself back onto the toilet seat, yanked my jeans the rest of the way up for dignity and opened the door. I managed to call for help whilst doing this, and luckily, there was a gentleman queuing for the disabled toilet next door so he could take his young daughter, who turned out to be a doctor.

He felt my knee, advised painkillers and 30 minutes of rest before any attempt to move on my own, and scarpered. My colleague was annoyed and thought that as a doctor, he had a duty of care to those in need. But in a way, I don't blame him. I wouldn't want to interrupt his family day out and I probably frightened the life out of his little girl.

What I found hilarious (much, much later onwards) was a couple of women who had a brilliant reaction to my screaming:

First Woman: "What's wrong, are you alright?"

Me: "I've dislocated my knee!!!"

Second Woman: "Oh my god, are you bleeding?"

First Woman: "DISLOCATED, YOU IDIOT!"

I also had to explain to a lot of queuing ladies why I was just having a leisurely sit down while they all waited for a stall.

Anyhoo, it was decided that I was unable to move without assistance, and due to being up flights of stairs in a very awkward location, it ought to be professional! So an ambulance was called for me. I'd only needed a visit to A&E once before. This was my first ambulance ride. I had a first response paramedic turn up first - his name was Tom and he was great. When he went to his car to get equipment, St Johns turned up too. Ian and Natalieann were very supportive and thorough. 

I got given gas and air, which was bloody fantastic. I got pre-warned every time they wanted to move me so I could take extra puffs and go 'super floofy'. I got wheeled out in a funny little trolley with a huge splint on my leg in a vibrant shade of 'look at me!' orange, out into the high street on a Saturday afternoon. Lots of rubbernecking at the back of the ambulance.

As I was (mostly) coherent, I spent some time answering questions before being taken to hospital and going through my usual routine of triage, x-ray, strapping up the knee. I called my dad from the ambulance - that was an interesting phonecall - so that I could get a lift home and some baggy trackie bottoms to cover my modesty.

A month later and my knee feels much better, but still not right. I've got a 45 minute sports physio session on Friday morning and I go on holiday to Spain on Sunday for a week. After I get back, I can finally take the bitch off! Still, at least I get to cruise round the airport on a buggy like the pimpin' high roller that I am.

Strewth, that was a long one. Sorry dudes!

And to think, I was just gutted that we sold Ugly Cat, cause I'd decided I would adopt him...

Ta-ta for now!

Swaf

xxx