Sorry for the lack of new blogs, but I have been overseas AND through a bit of an ordeal throughout the last couple of months. My memoir ‘Show Us Your Tits – Baring All and Beating Breast Cancer’ has had to take a bit of a backseat.
‘Break a leg’ they say. Yes, but that is an idiom said before performing to wish one ‘good luck’. Well, I was not performing, but following that directive literally, in-the-worst-kind-of-bad-luck-way, and I did indeed, break a leg – my right one – whilst on the second story of a temple, half-way up a mountain, on an island, off the coast of Hiroshima, Japan.
Since the word has spread amongst friends, the common cat call has been: ‘Geez you don’t do things by half girl!’
Yes, I would agree 100% with that sentiment.
So let me tell the story of how this went down, or more precisely, how I went down – with a scream and thud.
Hubby, daughter and I had been looking forward to our well-deserved overseas holiday for all of 2023. We hadn’t been overseas for more than 5 years and we were excited about being immersed in a different culture, people and place.
One week into a 2 ½ week trip – I literally tripped – down some well-worn, slippery wooden Japanese temple steps. We had decided to visit the beautiful, mountainous island of Miyajima, whilst we were in Hiroshima. An hour train ride and a brief ferry trip, had us walking the cute little township and viewing the impressive giant torii gate.
Daishoin Buddhist Temple sat half way up a mountain, we walked there to find impressive and exquisite grounds and buildings. As we finished exploring the second floor of Maniden Hall, I began to descend the stairs and before I knew it, I had let out a scream and landed with a thud. That is literally all I can remember about the actual fall.
For those not in the know, Japanese staircases are treacherous. Often made of wood, well-worn with no slip-strips, and set at a precariously steep angle, almost like a ladder.
I looked down to see my foot at a peculiar angle. Geez that’s not right!
Brendon straight away announced – ‘You’ve broken your leg!’ I was like, nah. Surely not. Just a bad sprain and a dislocation that can be popped back in?
Ahhh...no.
Off he went to get help, whilst my teenage daughter began crying and turning an impressive shade of white.
Soon we had 4 little Japanese ambulance officers carrying one large Aussie lady down these precarious steps. My fall had occurred on the top flight of 5 or 6 steps, before there was a landing, followed by another 20 or more steps! So, these guys had a very tricky job ahead of them. All I could do was close my eyes, place my arms across my chest and think positive thoughts, while they yelled instructions at each other in Japanese.
Waiting outside was another set of concrete steps to conquer before being placed in the back of a Japanese ambulance.
Now this is where you might hope for some pain relief, appropriate to helping with a foot that is hanging free, no longer attached with any bones.
Nope.
Japanese ambulances have no pain relief medication. Hooley-Dooley!
Ambulance down mountain.
Ambulance on ferry.
Ambulance back to Hiroshima, arriving at Hiroshima General Hospital.
Pain relief now please?
Ahhh…nope!
Pain is dealt with differently in Japan. It is something to control and endure wherever possible. Something to build resilience and character. It seems pain relief is basically kept to those that are dying.
I spent quite a few hours in emergency – where I received anti-biotics (Compound fracture -the tibia bone had dislocated from the force of the fibula breaking and had protruded through my skin) and a mild sedative which wore off within an hour or so, and my jeans, thermals and underwear were cut off, replaced by an adult nappy.
Finding yourself in a foreign country’s emergency department, with a foot just hanging there, hooked up to IV anti-biotics, dressed in an adult nappy with only one person who spoke English was a very bizarre experience!
The tortuous commencement of trying to reduce my dislocation/fracture (trying to push it all back into alignment) without pain relief, then began. A medical team tried no less than FOUR times to do this, with x-rays in between each attempt. I was SCREAMING the place down.
‘Just one more time. You brave lady!’ the gorgeous nurse kept saying. She also commented on my red and green painted ‘Christmas foot-fingers!’ She tried to distract me by playing songs on her phone. Her favourite band was Queen and I am not kidding you, the beginning to ‘I Want to Break Free’ started playing in my ears whilst they had another crack at it. I was crying-screaming-laughing at the irony.
My leg was finally set into a cast (complete with chopsticks!!) and our holiday was over with an emergency dash home the next morning, taking three separate flights.
By now you are probably wondering why I am telling you all of this, and asking what has this unfortunate incident got to do with breast cancer?
There is no direct link.
What I do know is this.
Had I not gone through my debilitating and scary experience with cancer, I would not be handling this situation so well.
Cancer has definitely taught me a thing or two.
Cancer has taught me that life is not fair, it is simply random. To break your leg whilst holidaying and finally feeling free of cancer worries, is not fair and not deserved – but that is life! We do not know when waves and troughs are going to hit our lives, but we can be certain that they will.
Cancer has taught me to look on the bright-side. I could have fallen down the larger flight of stairs that remained, and broken my back, my neck or perhaps sustained an irreparable head injury. I could have even died. I could have done this in a country with little to no medical care. Instead, as crap as it is, I escaped this incident with something that will mend, given the time, and have had numerous experienced medical personnel tend to my injury.
Cancer has taught me that time does heal - both physically and mentally. This bad break needs months to heal. I spent 9 days in hospital with external fixations, as my leg continued to dislocate even in plaster. I will be needing to invest time, energy, rest and therapy into getting this leg back to a workable condition. I will need patience. I will need to stop and not do too much as I limp around on crutches. Cancer makes you invest months and even years of time, into self-care, recuperation and recovery.
Cancer has taught me that pain is a regular and important part of life. As I sit here typing this, the nerve pain in my foot is telling me that I need to intervene, get my leg up on the couch, and let it rest.
So that is exactly what I shall do.
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