I wouldn’t believe it unless I had experienced it…and guess what? I did.
I had to return to the hospital today to have my cast cracked open for flying. It took me half an hour to get from our villa to where we could catch a cab. Mum had bought a stool so I could sit on it to climb over the different size steps all around the villa. Hop, hop, sit, slide legs around, push myself back up, hop, hop, etc.
Got to the hospital and the surgeon was late again (yeah! I know! Doctors, right?) Then they had to saw into my cast – OMG! My leg is still swollen underneath. I screamed more from this little procedure than when I broke it. You know those sticks doctors use to look down your throat? I bit through 2 of them, trying to contain my pain.
Then it was ‘wait for meds and the report’ time. In total, it took 3 hours at the hospital despite having an appointment and the hospital calling me 3 times during the day to make sure that I was attending.
Finally, Mum and I hopped into a cab, via McDonalds, to go home.
We arrived and it was totally dark. I couldn’t even contemplate the path in the dark. The (wonderful) taxi driver and Mum carefully followed the pathway to find out what was wrong. Mum was sure she had left the lights on for our return. It seems we were out of electricity.
We phoned our host 3 times (except I had saved the number wrongly and we were calling our tailor!) I couldn’t eat any dinner because I was afraid that I would need to go to the toilet and wouldn’t make it in time – it really is a long way from the front to our villa using crutches and a stool.
Finally, we got through to our host’s girlfriend. She doesn’t drive and had to find a lift over to re-fill the electricity.
Back at the villa now – all I want to do is click my heels together and say ‘there’s no place like home!’