Three months ago I sat waiting for my x-ray results. I was seen by a man who I am sure knew less medicine than I did. He said my foot was fine and to go away and rest and stop wasting his time.
Now the same pain is back, but thankfully not the same expert. This time a man who can actually speak English notices that my foot is broken.
I feel fear, panic, sweat, tears rising as he tells me that “you should be fit by Christmas.”
“Christmas?!” I should be at the ******* South Pole by Christmas… Horror.
He says I will be in a pot for two months and our subsequent conversation eases my panic about recovery time. But, despite my persistent probing, there is no short cut to quick healing, no elixir. No alternatives, no secret fix, no magic potion…
Just time, a good diet and -above all- patience.
I went home, joined a gym, and hit the weights machines. There’s no worry with my foot with them and I feel much better being able to clasp some slim sliver of control over my future.