If stupid is as stupid does, that definitely makes me forest gump (will be even more so when I get a massive shoe for my massive foot, but that won't be for a while yet!)
I would like to think that I am a reasonably intelligent person. Yes, I'm not claiming to be a member of MENSA and I don't pretend to understand politics or quantum physics. However, I've got a few qualifications under my belt, like to be organised and try to have a logical approach to things. Hell, I even enjoy watching QI. I'm sure that counts for something. Well, since I been visited by the foot of doom, a lot of my common sense seems to have morphed into a squirrel and taken up hibernation for the winter in my right shoes. Thinking about the past few weeks, I have really learnt a lot but also being amazed at my own stupidity. Maybe it's not stupidity. As I become more accustomed to the curse of the foot, my confidence grows and I think that I try to push myself just that little bit too far. However, there are episodes of just pure stupidity that can not be excused.
I fell out of my wheelchair yesterday. This was initially down to stupidity. Thinking of something to do with my time, what is the first thing that every immobile person thinks of doing? Yes, BAKING! Why, oh why, did I even start? So determined to make some muffins, I struggled to reach things out of the cupboard, managed to create a towering pile of washing up and seem to throw ingredients everywhere and anywhere. I had strange looking marks on my trousers from where I had spilt the mixture by trying to spoon it into the cases, obviously using my lap as a work surface. A mere hour and a half later, I was filthy, sweating and had made the Swedish Chef from the Muppets look like Delia Smith. But never mind, I had some damn muffins to put in the oven! My friend, Farah, came in just as I had finished the first batch. On telling her what I was doing, her response was, "Are you mad?" Well, I think we now know the answer to that one.
This was the stupid thing that led to the accident that happened partway through the mental muffin experience. Attempting to tidy up after myself was the mistake. I had piled a few things up to put in the bin so wheeled them over getting as close as I could to leaned over to open it. I still could not reach so rather than just leaving it, I leaned a bit further forwards....and a bit more and.........BAM! The wheelchair flipped up, throwing me forwards off the ledge, my good foot landed on the floor and my bad foot up in the air (thank goodness). Luckily, the only part of my body that really hurt was my right butt cheek which felt very strange. After trying to push the wheel chair back and getting up off the the floor (minus my crutches), I inspected my poor wheel chair and realised what I had done. My colossal butt cheek had landed on the right foot rest and snapped the end off. No wonder my bum hurt!
The other major event of stupidity happened the other night attempting to use the commode. It was more how I reacted that was stupid. I got up in the middle of the night to use the 'en-suite' and as I was getting up, pyjama trousers round my knees, I seemed to lose my footing. This resulted in me first doing a Michael Jackson pose on my toe (ow!) then landing on my knees whilst my torso was slumped on the bed. Nick woke up and wanted to switch the light on. Quickly I told him no. Why? Well because my first thought was that I did not want him to see me in that state with my trousers round my ankles. For god sake, the poor man has to empty my commode and help me shower along with many other things that I think are above and beyond. I am sure he would be able to cope, but pride told me otherwise.
Unfortunately, there have been many more episodes that make me resemble a total dimwit. I blame it on the medication....... or the cabin fever!
One thing I have found is that reflexes make my bad foot respond to trips and falls in a very strange way. Now, most of the time that I fall or am in danger of hurting myself, the foot of doom develops a mind of it's own and throws itself so far up in the air that it nearly smacks me in the face. If I carry on with leg throwing like this, before I know it, I will be dancing the can-can at the Moulin Rouge with a pair of frilly knickers on. Yes, I may need help to get them on but I could very well be there!
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