We All Knew This Day Would Come

Yesterday was such a normal day. I went to Nyaho with Kym for most of the morning because she was feeling sick all weekend. We all feared it was Malaria but it wasn't. So far as they can tell, it's some sort of amorphous "virus". That's usually what they say when they can't come up with any other diagnosis.

So I didn't expect anything exciting out of yesterday at all. Except, as soon as I left the internet cafe yesterday afternoon to go to the post office... disaster struck. I was just walking along, not a care in the world. Until the ground moved from under me and I was suddenly prostrate in the dirt. Was it an earthquake? No. I just tripped on the barely jutting curb, landing on the side of my left foot. This whole fall was quite a commotion and caused dozens of turned heads and a couple of gasps. (Great, like I didn't have everyone looking at me before... I had to go and bring further attention and humilation to myself...) Several people asked me if I was okay, to which I said yes, and I did they thing any good American would do. I got up, brushed myself off and told myself to "walk it off". Which I proceded to do. For about 12 yards, until the pain in my left foot and the large easter egg-sized purple lump that appeared there began screaming at me. I needed to make it to the post office to send off a couple of letters (Anna and Logs - you better appreciate that mail!!) so I convinced myself not to cry and limped down the main road to the post office. Then I promptly took a cab back to the dorm. Where I realized I had a formidable 3 flights of stairs ahead of me. At this point, my hobbling had gotten quite a few stares from the porters and guards outside of ISH, to whom I had to explain my humiliating injury.

I finally made it upstairs and made myself a sling of sorts out of some fabric and used various frozen objects to reduce the swelling. It started out with a first aid ice pack and moved to a frozen GoGurt-type thing (FanYogo for all of you in-the-know about Ghana). Kym came over and ate the FanYogo when it was done and I moved onto a frozen water bag while we both assessed the situation.

I couldn't tell if it had been broken but the pain was excruciating so we made the decision to do a 2-for-1 Nyaho special. Two trips to the clinic in 12 hours. It has to be a record. Sadly, some of the people recognized us when we went back. 2 hours of hobbling to and fro along with a couple of X-rays tells me that my foot is not officially broken but they can't explain the excessive swelling and pain in my foot. I'm telling you it was about twice the size of a normal foot and started out a disgusting puce color. The bruise faded from puce to bluish-grey which is slightly better. Although walking is not.

They sent me home with two ace bandages and some anti-inflamatory gel. So now I'm hobbling around campus trying not to wince every time I hit a rock.

But on the bright side - I have already had three offers from guys to carry me on their backs. I haven't taken any up on it yet, but I think it would be pretty great to get tied on and carried around like a small Ghanaian child. It's even better than crutches.