Yay

So 6 weeks has passed since I broke my right foot.  It's a Lisfranc fracture of 2 metatarsals, with a break in 1 and a comminuted break in 2 for the medically minded.  Bone 1 is my big toe and 2 is the toe next to it.  Quite an odd fracture apparently, as it's commonly the little toe that's fractured in my type of injury (falling off a step).

Sitting on my arse all day has not been good for me mentally.  I'm sure that if I was measured on the test that Doctors do for depression, I'd score quite highly.  Whether that would have been enough for intervention, I'm not sure.  I decided not to seek treatment for it (the potential depression) because I was more aware this time over and I knew that it had a cause and a light at the end of the tunnel for a cure.  That didn't stop the anxiety kicking in, but I am dealing with that through meditation and distraction (more on that in a minute).

6 weeks down the line and I now have a boot fitted and I am now allowed to weight bear.  I've been given some basic exercises to do, until the referral for physio comes through.  I'm doing better than I thought I would.  I am somewhat of a fidget and something I tend to do is wiggle my toes a lot, so when my toes were sticking out of the plaster cast, I have actually got them pretty mobile.  It's just the strength in my ankle and foot now that I need to build up.

All of the stress has kicked my eczema up a notch with a massive patch under my cast, which I couldn't do anything about.  I had it checked by the doctor who wasn't too worried - I however am quite concerned and think it's worse than the time I got antibiotics from my last GP in Nottingham.  I've been given the OK to use my strong steroid cream on it though, so if it hasn't improved in a week, I will have to go to my GP and get some antibiotics.  Gah, I hate Fluoxacillin, it gives me the tummy rumbles.

It was heaven to get it washed though.  Think I might have accidentally pulled my sex face while it was being washed and scared the nurse :D

Naturally, as I've been sat on my arse, I've been watching a lot of TV.  I'm addicted to Homes Under the Hammer.  I never got into Jeremy Kyle - I think he's a bit of an idiot and I don't really get the show.  It's the kind of show that shames it's participants and I have no time for shaming. 

I lost my job too, which is a shame.  I can't say I blame them - I was on a temporary ongoing contract which I was unable to fulfil.  They were a retail company who need people to answer emails coming up to Christmas.  I'm still a bit frustrated though, however I did get a call from an employment agency and I *might* have some more work lined up, starting mid January.  My note runs out on New Years Eve, so I may need to pop and get another couple of weeks.

But, I need to be up on my feet and moving about and putting weight on it, so we shall see.  I impressed myself by tackling TWO steps using a walker.  TWO!!  I'm still unable to go up the stairs in my house as I have a walker and not crutches, but we'll see what the physio's say when I go and see them.

I have been getting plenty of knitting done.  I've finished a pair of socks, a crochet granny square blanket and have got considerable work done on the Mr's socks (2 at a time, toe up - go me!!!).  I've stated and restarted multiple times a sweater from knitty in some sport weight SMC superfine merino fino that I got from John Lewis in a sale last year. 

Oh, oh!  I've got a new car as well.  One that I've only been able to glare at through the window of my house.  It's a Rover 25.  I miss my unusual Pug though (a saloon 306, which are uncommon), but I won't miss it's hissy fits in the winter.

Now, it's time for dinner.  I'm starving!!