Crippled.

Hello hello, stupid day!

It's just my foot. It sort of hurts. A lot.

Last night got me no quality sleep whatsoever and even considered going to the emergency department in the middle of the night for some advice but held on until 5:30 this morning. Karoline helped me out and I skipped my way to a clinic which is literally down the road and up a side street. We got there in time for 7am which is when they open. The receptionist did not speak English and did not even try to understand what was wrong. I just skipped back out once I'd used up my taxi-Polish-skills and gotten nowhere. She did give us the address to another clinic where I could get some help though. So we call a taxi, it never shows up and luckily Karoline manages to hail one off the side street. We get in and it feels really strange taking a cab to a place I'd normally walk to within 5 minutes....

This place was allegedly the emergency department of the university hospital and we're guided down the stairs to a strange little hallway where people register. They manage to find someone who speaks English and she's initially just like- "this is strictly for emergency situations like fractures and sprains, so you should actually just go to THIS address!" .....and writes down the address of the clinic we just came from. I actually asked her whether she was kidding me or not and after showing her a little pain-burst she let me register and wait for an English speaking doctor to arrive at 8am. We wait in the hallway for almost an hour and around 8:45 they ask me to come in, put me in a wheelchair (fun....) and send me to radiology. A cool paramedic guy rolled me away to take an x-ray and rolled me back, placing me in a corner for another hour. I did some chit chatting with an older Polish lady who actually knew the odd English phrase which was quite sweet.

I started to get a bit impatient and whipped out a fabulous "przepraszam" to get their attention. The so-called English-speaking doctor kept jabbering in Polish even after I said "nie mowie po polsku" TWICE, so he found the nurse I met earlier who said there were no fractures, just a dark shadow on my x-ray which means I have to wear this stupid CAST for a week:

at least 4 out of my 5 toenails were painted and are now nicely on display...

She gave me a few other papers including a prescription for anti-coagulant injections which I have to inject myself for 10 days or so because this shadow could apparently be a sign of clot formations (?). I even got my x-rays on a CD- which made me slightly amused...

I was told to go to get the cast on my leg somewhere close to radiology and Karoline rolled me down the halls. Got redirected to 3 places before finding a place to register for getting a cast and the line was so immense I just wanted to cry. Karo even offered to go home and get our histology notes so we wouldn't just sit there waiting for 3 hours with nothing to do. I registered to this place again miraculously being able to communicate with the grumpy reception lady and we went back in line. Then we somehow managed to find another doctor who spoke English and explained the situation, so he took us to a completely different place to get the cast. Met the paramedic guy again, this time on his lunch break in the cast-making room. I got the cast and realised that what's normal practice in Norway is not necessarily the same here- they could not offer me any crutches! Paramedic guy gave me the "see, this is the way out country works"-look and this is where we parted. Karo rolled me into a cab and we were outside the flat at noon. Skipped my way to one of the medical shops next door and bought these fancy teal crutches in the pic above. Gotta love the stylishness of the situation!

So yeah, to sum it up:

I'm wearing this stupid cast and walking on fabulous crutches until the 22nd (hopefully without the horrible pain at some point) injecting those anti-coagulants every day and going back after my last histology exam on the 22nd for a health check. Hopefully won't need to crutch-up again for my flight on the 23rd... crossing my fingers and healthy toes as we speak.

How it happened, you say? I have __no__ frickin clue. If I have to get my foot casted every time I go out jogging, this could be a really sad life!




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