20 April 2011

L is for Ligaments Ripped To Shreds

1965. 112 minutes long.  6.4 / 10 on the IMDB-orometer.  That Darn Cat!

That Darn Cat! Poster

But he wasn’t Siamese…  Not on Monday, April 17, 2011 he wasn’t.  He was a big bad-ass ginger male – strawberry shortcake was his name – and he ripped my ankle to shreds!

1 hour after The Event, I was as happy as a lemming in a box.  The pain I had experienced at time 0 had all but dissipated and I could rotate my foot easily with no discomfort.  I wondered what all that gristle-grinding histrionics was all about.  My super-human Adamantium skeletal constitution was obviously just too awesome for any one stupid cat to vanquish.

2 hours after The Event… and the Adamantium wasn’t working too well anymore.

Throb.

So I remembered Jeremy Maggs’ magnanimous offer, and I phoned a friend.  Ice ice baby was the 30 seconds of advice I got.  So I limped down to the kitchen, threw 2 ice cubes into a kitchen towel and applied the dressing to my foot.  It was cold.  Duh!  But I manned up and kept the pressure applied, removing it periodically to thwart any frost bite gangrene that my over-anxious brain was panicking over.

4 hours after The Event…  and the Adamantium was just Adam Ant now.   My foot had totally seized up.  I couldn’t move it without sharp shards of pain firing up my calves.  I tried to walk and could barely apply pressure to it without wincing like a baby girl.

I hobbled down the stairs.  Left foot first.  Hold the railing to release the pressure… aaaaand right foot to follow.  Repeat.  20 gruelling times.  I grimaced my way to the fridge and assembled a second ice-dishcloth sling and applied it tenderly to my useless limb.  It helped a bit, but I knew I was doomed.  Tomorrow when I woke up, I just knew it would be swollen and blue and I wondered how the emergency helicopter was going to land on my 3 square metres of duplex garden grass.

But before retiring to bed, I remembered one final bit of advice my friend has managed to squeeze in before being cut off.  Get some anti-inflams from the chemist tomorrow.  Hmmm, I wondered if maybe there was something in my medicine cabinet.

And lo, glowing like a lost artefact 2 hours into an Indiana Jones movie, was a non-expired pack of Cataflam.  I popped one of those little puppies into a glass of water and dissolved it.  The way they dissolve is so cool.  They don’t fizz and pop, they just kinda balloon up into a little marshmallow floating blob thing.  No spoon to stir it with – that was downstairs and no way was I attempting that voyage again – so I just twirled my grubby index finger around in the glass.

Downed the drugs – tastes nasty bitter – and settled down to sleep.

The morning arrived…  I got out of bed, foot hit and floor… and the pain was almost non-existent.  WTF?  I took another Cataflam that morning, and one day further on, the pain has almost totally gone.  Was it the wonder-drug Cataflam?  Was it the icing?  Was it the sleep?  Was it not that badly damaged in the first place?  I’m not sure, but I am very surprised.  I’ve used Cataflam before on a very painful muscle spasm and it helped hugely.  I’m sold on that drug, and so in my totally non-medical opinion, I give Cataflam the credit for my super fast recovery.

And yes, the title of this posting was rather sensational wasn’t it.  Sue me.

1 comment:

  1. I'm not familiar with Cataflam, but we are in completely different parts of the world so that's probably why. Regardless, I'm glad your ankle is better.

    Another post that made me laugh :D And let me tell you, I felt pain at just the title of this post. Ankle injuries are not something I laugh at. I'm a runner and ligaments tearing is a nightmare!

    It's been fun, Grant! Glad I clicked on your blog!

    ReplyDelete