Injury lessons 2

I sprained my ankle last week. For everyone asking “what happened?” the answer is basically “roller derby.” I’d like to pretend I did something totally badass, but I basically just fell down like a twat.

Everything indicates that it’s a pretty simple and low-grade sprain, as opposed to the really nasty ones, which can be just as bad (or worse) than an outright break. As ankle injuries go, mine is pretty much the least that could possibly happen, particularly as someone else actually broke their leg in three places the day before. I was bearing some weight on it before I even left the hospital. It has still been an educational week, though. These are the things i have learned so far.

  1. Don’t go skating when you’re not 100% well. I was still a bit off-colour from a kidney infection, and hadn’t been able to eat properly for about a week, partially because of the amazing side-effects of my superstrong antibiotics and partially because of basic unwellness. Yes, I know it’s entirely my own fault. Don’t worry. I’ve had plenty of alone time to reflect on exactly how much I screwed that up and remind myself how stupid that was.
  2. Roller derby people are really, really pro at first aid. I went down on a track full of skaters weaving around each other in both derby direction (anticlockwise, in case you were wondering) and in counter-direction, heard a nasty crack and experienced pain. About 30-45 seconds later, I was off that track, had the skate off, had been assessed and had an ice pack on. Within about two minutes, someone was getting my stuff and someone else was changing out of their kit so they could take me to A&E (thanks!) Within about ten minutes, I had been moved out of the building and was en route, without ever having inadvertently put weight on the ankle and hurting it further. At no point did anyone lose their cool, or allow me to lose my cool. I was not left alone at any point – the person who took me to A&E stayed with me until a parkour buddy arrived to take over (thanks, Denny!)
    It’s not just the first-aiders/coaches who are pro. I have been in situations where someone hurts themselves in a parkour class and the other participants invariably stop what they are doing, turn around, stare and comment, sometimes quite audibly. This is not meant badly, but it’s beyond unhelpful. Imagine it. You’ve gone down, you’re on the ground. You’ve heard something – maybe a crack or crunch. You’re in pain and vulnerable. A group of people is STANDING OVER YOU. They’re excited and frantically asking if you’re okay. Are you okay? OH MY GOD, WHAT’S HAPPENING?
    I’ve actually had well-meaning people crowd me in an acrobatics hall when I got accidentally kicked by someone and needed a minute to control my breathing. This took me from a slight bruise and needing a minute to chill out to having a full-on panic attack in a corner, curled up in a ball and hyperventilating because I couldn’t escape from all the people.
    In roller derby, you’re taken off the track, or if you cannot be moved, you’re blocked off. Nobody crowds you. Someone calmly assesses you, and some people are assigned to get your stuff, take you to get checked if needed and so on. Everyone not assisting gets on with training and skates around as normal. This is not callous. It’s pragmatic, and actually helps to keep things calm.
    By all means, do help if someone goes down at parkour or somewhere. I’m not saying everyone needs to ignore someone screaming on the floor. If you are the first-aider on scene, start helping as appropriate. If you are a first-aider but not responsible for people in a class, make sure someone is getting the coach or responsible person. If the casualty is already being first-aided and you are not doing anything useful, back the hell off and give them space. Stay in earshot if you think you might be needed, but otherwise, just get out of the way. Do not stare.
  3. B Team definitely exist. Not only that, they are capable of picking me up and carrying me across a track full of skaters even when I’m informing them precisely how many kilograms I weighed that morning and how heavy that is because I’m such a huge weightlifter. Thanks for not squatting me. I wouldn’t have enjoyed it at that point.
  4. A&E is really boring and you will wait for a long time. This is not a complaint – even if the leg is actually broken, you won’t die. Other people coming in with mystery abdominal pain, breathing problems and their heads falling off are more urgent than you, and that’s how it should be.
    However, feel free to make your own entertainment while you’re waiting. If you’ve just come from skating, a fun game is to wear your helmet while being wheeled about. Make sure to tell any hospital staff you pass that you’re really great at rollerskates. It’s fun for you AND for them!
  5. People who don’t do a high-impact risk-bearing sport can be extremely unhelpful. This isn’t true for everyone, but it is a thing. On my first day back at work, I had someone approach me and cheerfully ask if “this was it for skating now”. He then went on to inform me that skating is entirely for teenagers (this is pretty awkward, seeing as roller derby is for 18 and up – there is a junior version, but I get the impression it’s a lot gentler) and heavily imply that I shouldn’t be doing it at all. I was informed by someone else that “at a certain age” it’s extremely difficult for injuries to heal (I’m 33, by the way, and healing perfectly fast, thank you) and the parting shot on Friday by coworker number 1 was to remind me to not skate this weekend, not because I was still on crutches, but because I’m not a teenager.
    I honestly have no idea why people believe that teenagers are basically Wolverine, and the minute you hit 25 you must simply stop moving and live attached to your office chair like a barnacle that has settled onto a rock at sea. I also have no idea why they find injury almost funny. I don’t need outpourings of sympathy for a sprained ankle, but the guy assuming I would have to quit skating seemed actually cheerful about it. If I did have to quit, I would be absolutely devastated. There’s almost a sense of schadenfreude about it, like I should never have even tried.
    This is all for a grade 1 sprained ankle. They didn’t amputate my leg. It’s not fatal. It will take a few weeks of rehab before I can skate even non-contact, but it’s an incredibly minor and routine injury. I cannot even imagine what the reaction would have been if it had actually broken – which happens to skaters a lot, by the way. And no, they don’t just automatically quit.
  6. Stuff seems pretty much pointless, even with a minor injury. I eat at intervals because I have to, I make myself go to work because I have to, and other than that there doesn’t seem to be any reason to really do anything. If I didn’t have to go to work, I’m not entirely sure I’d even have had a shower this week. About 90% of my non-workplace social contact is based around training, and the other part (Zen) is based around being in a small area with too many people for me to cope with right now, so I don’t hang out with people much. Even blogging has seemed too hard, so I’m pretty much no use to myself or anyone around me, especially as I am currently rehabbing my shoulder as well. This is 100% my own fault, so I’m not complaining, and I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on exactly why I am dead weight. It’s not fun, though, so sometimes I watch DVDs or play Sudoku instead.
  7. Crutches actually require skill. Also upper body strength, so if you think you might hurt your leg at some point, start training your triceps now. You can use the edges of the rubber stoppers at the bottom to gain and direct momentum and get some real speed up. It does tire you out, though, and you do have to be careful to not slip and accidentally impact your wrecked leg. You also can lose feeling in your hands. Learning how to do various things with them is actually quite fun, though, and you will be motivated. Getting a cup of tea from the kitchen to your room pretty much becomes a Crystal Maze challenge, without the fun parts. This is on easy mode, too – I was partially weight-bearing from the start, and the pain was really slight.
    It may seem odd I’m using crutches for an incredibly minor injury. The trouble with an ankle sprain is that simply walking around repeatedly loads the currently-unstable joint with all 55 of my kilograms, which isn’t particularly helpful for healing. I’m down to one crutch already, and can walk normally for short intervals, but breaking into a jog or stumbling could cause a resprain, which is bad news.
  8. You have to use your words. A lot of people volunteer to give me a seat on public transport. A lot of others do not. I am absolutely not going to stand on a moving vehicle and risk wrecking myself further, so I ask them to let me sit down. There’s no need to be a dick about it – people may appear physically able when they are not, so don’t get accusatory, but anyone who is able to stand should be letting someone on crutches sit, and I approach them with that mindset. Say please, say thank you, but definitely express that you need to sit. The chances of an entire bus or tube carriage being occupied by people with invisible disabilities is pretty damn low. Someone can get up for you.

All in all, I’d give mildly spraining your ankle a 3/10 for fun activities – it’s not enjoyable, but it’s pretty damn minor and provides useful crutch training for worse injuries. You also get to work on your assertiveness skills, and develop your problem solving abilities. Always a silver lining, right?

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One thought on “Injury lessons 2

  1. Happy I could help. Can’t remember if I already mentioned this on Facebook, but it might be worth wrapping the crutch handles with tennis racquet handle tape, if you’re going to be on them a while.

    Like

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