Glen or Glenda?

So my cast is off! AND my weight bearing status has changed from "non weightbearing" to "it's complicated" Woohoo! party. My leg has been in there for over 2 months and I can barely recognize it as my own leg. It's really strange. I put both my legs next to eachother and it looked like one was mine and one was Josh's.

But whose is whose?

I have a lot of body hangups but I was really proud of my shotputter legs. The only muscle on my body...well now it's just shotputter leg. It's gonna take a lot of stairs to get my leg back to it's muscley baby lifting self.

The massive change (other than the masses of hair) is my ankle. I have some pretty gnarly scars and I seem to no longer have lumps where ankle lumps should be. It looks like I have cankles but I assure you I don't have cankles on my leg without metal. My husband has affectionately named it my mankle. Here I present: The Frankenfoot!

*Gasp* *Swoon* *Vomit*

So I'd been waiting 2 months to see how my leg is looking, I had hyped myself up and it was sort of an anti-climax. Yeah it looks gruesome, like so ugly that if I lived in the 1940's and wasn't already married I'd never find a husband. Don't get me wrong, the scars are great, but I'm a bit disappointed because it's TOTALLY different. My foot is thinner, my ankles don't look like ankles, the skin is flaking to the point of causing pain, and my foot has hair on it! Like a hobbit! I've never had hairy feet and now I have just the one!

Anyway, I'm sure it will be more muscley and less hairy soon. (Josh is hoping it will be less hairy soon) and when that gets back to normal maybe I won't mind the mankle. And I can always use the scars as a cautionary tale; Arrested Development style.

And THAT's why you don't leave toys lying around!

So it' time to say goodbye to my warm wrapped up leg, goodbye to mystery, goodbye to people drawing on my leg...well apart from this one guy at hospital...

My mum thinks it looks like a Penis.

Now it's time to say hello to a slow and painful recovery, especially now the doctors have taken me off the good drugs. The Penises.

Getting messy.

Here's my secret:

I'm not witty all of the time. Some of the time I'm knitting, baking, or candlestick making. Not so much baking these days :(

Anyway, I want to show off, but not so much I lose friends/followers so this is the ONLY TIME I will be posting about it.

Please check out my page and if you're into that sort of thing like it for me won'cha?

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Michas-Messy-Corner/143252619108093?sk=wall

Peace and love x

Spooky, Scary!

What's all this nonsense about Halloween? The spookiest of all holidays is the werewolf Bar Mitzvah.

Enjoy

Saturday Night Treats!!

I don't know if I've mentioned this recently but I have a poorly leg. Just in case you were wondering why I've posted a picture of my legs...that's why. Also, it's hard to see in this picture, when I took this picture my left leg was pretty swollen, the toes were about twice the size of my good leg, and one shade down from my bright red cast. (The 4th in a series of casts with a disappointing lack of dinosaur print)

I probably should have made sure my feet were next to eachother.

So, to cheer my up for my enormous foot, insane amounts of pain, and...well, just because it was Saturday, Josh bought some mad stuff for Saturday Night Treats.

That's right, that is a milk carton full of red juice.

I should probably explain what Saturday Night Treats is. We watch an old episode of Saturday Night Live and usually buy 1 type of treat to have with it. Recently we've been getting more and more treats to make up for the fact I can't have wine with my codeine. So we get a ton of sugar and get silly.

We find our limit last night. We had way too much sugar and we're agreed that the most we can handle is 1 type of sugary drink and 2 types of sickly food stuff. I'm still coming down from my sugar high. Even when we'd consumed so much sugar our sexy tum tums were making not so sexy noises, and our mouths were dry from only having sugar in them for as long as they could remember we kept right on eating. And drinking.

We were determined to get silly. So silly we got! A particular high point was finding an owl in with the strawbs. I was so freaking excited I started hooting like an owl. Then I started looking for a mouse to hunt and eat but with limited movement it meant looking around the sofa bed an giving up.

The owl didn't even taste of strawberries. I couldn't tell if it was raspberry or cola.

We rounded off the evening by watching various comedy shows and complaining about our full bellies. I also made triangles out or our wrappers and Josh tried to make them say words. As you can see I was much better at my job than he was at his.

What does that even say? oOor? Str?

Join us next time on Tales of the Mundane.

A brand new spanking cast

What a weekend!

We've had a crazy family weekend where I: Saw a baby in 4 dimensions - 3 months early, Saw 2 half films, Saw 2 whole X factors, Saw (not met) Adam Buxton, Knitted 5 squares of a blanket, Picked out 2 dresses and 1 poncho to knit for said 4 dimensional baby. It was pretty fun filled.

Yesterday my stitches came out. That was an adventure. It meant saying goodbye to the old bright orange cast, thank goodness for modern technology though, it means I don't have to keep an empty shell full of dead skin, instead, here are some pictures:

Unfortunately some of the earlier messages were so faded they wouldn't come out on the pictures very well.

So, I go to the hospital, expecting to see my doctor that I had only actually seen twice, and one of those times he came just to tell me I had a fat leg, but it turns out I don't actually have to see him, I was a little bit glad because my leg isn't getting any thinner while I can't move it. Why are doctors all such fat bashers?

The man who does the casts, let's call him...cast man. He calls me into the room and gets me to hop into a giant chair, he then lifts the chair so I am the TALLEST PERSON IN THE ROOM! Cast man removes my cast with a mini buzz saw and, even though it's his job to do this every day, I pray that he isn't going to cut into my leg, and guess what, he doesn't! What does that tell you? Cast man leaves me there for about 10 minutes waiting for the nurse to come and remove the stitches, let's call her...stitch nurse.

In the meantime I notice how hairy my leg has gotten, and I have a long way to go yet, in fact it's so hairy when I sent it to Josh's phone he thought it was his own thigh he'd accidentally taken a photo of. There's also this bruise looking thing, how do I get a bruise on a leg that's been in a cast for over 2 weeks? Oh wait, that's an arrow so they operated on the right leg, still there.

Hairy right?

I also finally get to see how many stitches I had. Everyone always says "I had 2 stitches" or "I had 8 stitches" but no one ever told me how many stitches I had, so I was starting to feel a bit left out. Here was I, recovering from a major operation and I didn't even know how many stitches I had. Well to answer this question that had been plaguing me, I had 19 stitches. Here's some picture of (what I have affectionately named) my frankenfoot:

Considering it was my ankle that broke, they seem to have cut a pretty long way up my leg.

Along comes stitch nurse, she's friendly enough and I'm not too worried as all of my friends who have had stitches say that they don't hurt. Granted this hurt the least of everything I've been through so far, it still bloody hurt! Literally, when she took out the first 3 stitches they bleed, she went to get some new tweezers, apparently they weren't very good. That puts my mind at ease perhaps it was just the tweezers, with the new tweezers I bet it won't hurt very much at all. I lost that bet. Imagine waxing your legs when they are twice as hairy as they should be. Now double that pain.

The worst parts over! Wrong again. Cast man comes back to put another cast on me. He plasters up the bleeding stitch holes. He tells me my leg has inverted itself and he pushes my foot to the left and up a bit, it's agony but it least it's done. What's that? I'm wrong AGAIN? As he is putting all the layers of bandage on my foot slowly, but very surely, inverts itself again "like elastic" cast man says. So he calls over his buddy Matt.

Matt has to put to cast on while cast man is remodelling my foot. In a very rude, patronising, but somehow compassionate way, cast man tells me I need to work with him or I won't be able to walk when the cast comes off. It's agony but I agree with cast man that I will probably want to walk after this whole ordeal, so I let cast man bend my leg and I move my toes when he tells me to. Matt tries to sell me his unborn baby, and then immediately reneges on the deal. Just as I was working out a price! And before I know it the cast is on, cast man has stopped torturing me, and I only have to wait for half an hour before I can have more pain drugs! Life is wonderful!

Isn't it pretty?

And after all that, I have to go in next Monday to do it all again, apparently my foot is still swollen and I have to sleep with it above my heart in order to get the swelling down. C'est la vie!

Broken legged and bored.

Hi guys, remember me?

I haven't blogged in almost 2 years so forgive me if I forget all blog etiquette.

Since my last post I have graduated with a 2:2 in society culture and media, started and failed a post graduate course in childcare, somehow gotten a job in a nursery without any childcare qualifications, and; most recently; broken my leg.

This has gotten me thinking, I'm used to running around after children all day, wearing ridiculous plastic aprons, being bossed around, and cleaning up bodily fluids. This is becomes almost impossible with only one leg and I miss it, more importantly I miss the conversations with the children, I miss the cuddles, I miss playing as a living, the other stuff I can take or leave.

As much as I love hanging out and doing whatever I want, it's hard not to think about the wonderful children I work with, especially when about 1/3 of the doctors I see are parents from the nursery.

But today I realised that I'm actually having quite a lot of fun, I can do all the things I did when I was at uni, I can trawl the internet and find charming little blogs to follow, I can take up a new hobby (knitting in case you were wondering) and much more besides.

So what if I need everyone to wait on me hand and foot? So what if I drop my pen on the floor and need to wait for someone to enter the room before doing any activities that may require a pen? So what if I have become addicted to the exploits of the Kardashian family? Instead of focussing on the negative I'm going to enjoy all that life has to offer me and make the most of it, because in a blink of an eye I'll be right back on it, cleaning up all those bodily fluids all over again.

In order to keep positive I thought I'd blog, to tell you all about my fabulous adventures, I'll also keep you up to date with the not so fabulous adventures if you like. Now I'm off to do some knitting and listen to my 1st and 3rd favourite McElroy talk about America's dirty little secret in Losing The Sheen it's well worth a listen.

Thank you and good Taffmen.

All I want for Christmas is...Gloria Hunniford talking about Angels?

Christmas TV! Love it or hate it, it's still a force to be reckoned with. The question is: do you watch the rubbish crimbo films you've seen year in, year out, and you either own on DVD, VHS or waiting under the tree from the grandma who doesn't really know you? Or do you venture into the one off TV shows that only rear their ugly heads at Christmas time?

It's not all bad though. There's the token Christmas specials of our favourite shows like Gavin and Stacey, and The Royle Family (yes another one!) Don't forget last year's old Christmas specials, for some reason BBC3, E4, Dave and all our other favourite TV stations think we want to see old plots of old Christmas specials every year.

Not forgetting the feasts for the eyes, yes every year our favourite celebrity chefs present their Christmas favourites. It's astounding how many different people we can watch making the same meal, deserts, starters, alchoholic drinks, and mince pies.

But the thing that really got me this year, was Gloria Hunniford (yes THAT old women with a confusing accent) presenting her Christmas special of Angels. The ad sums it up really: she proclaims "We all know that Angels are important at Christmas time" and that's all you need for Christmas. A bunch of loons talking about apparitions that may or may not have happened, while Gloria Hunniford uses the birth of the saviour as an excuse to expose these mad tales to the general public.

Have a lovely Christmas, and good luck in finding something decent to watch this season.