After a lifetime of contusions, bruises, rashes, scratches, cuts, abrasions, sprains, bumps and boo-boo’s, I’ve actually BROKEN SOMETHING. Yup, I have an oblique fracture of the fifth meta-tarsal. If the X-rays would scan, I’d show you (yes, I had copies made – ‘CAUSE HOW COOL). And what’s more, the physician, who was an expert in sports medicine, who just happened to be doing his one night of the week at the InstaCare, called me a “Stud.”
I think perhaps that should be a synonym for “Really Stupid.” In the first place, this injury occurred last Tuesday evening, right before I went in to teach my Tuesday night musical theatre class at the Barlow Arts Conservatory. I will talk about the Conservatory soon at which time I will praise and commend it at length. And I may even mention my upcoming guest appearance in the Annual Super-Duper Barlow Arts Conservatory recital in which I will be playing Miss Hannigan.
Anyhoo, I had donned my ballet slippers, as one wears dance shoes on the expensive dance floor; it’s the respectful thing to do. Besides, it places me in ridiculous Amazonian contrast to the wee tiny ballerinas in their pink slippers and matching ensembles. From the tiled lobby to the dance floor there is a difference of an inch or two between which there is a lovely sloped threshold. It was upon this threshold that, during a moment of “warm-up” – OKAY – horseplay, I fancied that I’d toss a lil’ jeté into my day. At this point I – and beware of this fancy medical vernacular – royally smushed my foot to bits (pronated it to pieces?). It wasn’t one of my weak ankles, as usual (which is why I own more than one ankle brace). It was my left foot itself.
The best part is that I just started that class and walked on my foot for at least half the time. I somehow managed to avoid the most strikingly painful moves. But when I removed my slipper (which ended up acting like a compressive device of sorts) I knew I’d done a doozy. I worked in health care long enough to learn my “R.I.C.E.” – Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation – so I iced, rested and elevated for a couple of days, limped on the thing to tour some potential short course venues, and then rested it some more… And OHHH the cool and migrating bruises.
Today, I taught my Monday musical theatre class in a grandly gimpy fashion. Then the ballet Moms scared me. They regaled me with tales of injuries of dancers who thought their breaks were just sprains, and then weeks later… Long story short (yes, too late as usual), I decided that I’d best get my foot checked out, especially since I am only insured until June 1st. Therefore, after x-rays and examination, I was deemed a stud for walking on a substantial break for almost a week. And were I an actual DANCER who had any excuse to be doing fancy-schmancy moves, I could take great comfort in the fact that this is one of the most common “dance” injuries. But I’m there as the VOCAL expert. So just call me Stupid Super Stud in my “Walking Boot.” Oh – and Clinton and Stacy would NOT approve of this footwear (particularly the fact that I own clunky enough shoes to match the height and chunkiness of the medical boot. Oh well.
*In Junior High it is extremely likely that I cracked my tail-bone (dancing in the garage with a bucket – SHUT UP), but one cannot do anything about that, so I never had it verified. I did sit funny for a few years…