Injurious times (4th July)
It’s no secret that I’ve always been accident prone. Just in the last 3 years I have managed to get hit by a car, fall down a flight of stairs and chip my elbow, and skid on a pair of shiny shoes and chip my chin (thus giving myself a fetching black and blue ‘beard’). But none of those has been as painful and horrifying as what has now happened to me.
Sunday: Skinning my shin on a sharp stone on the Perhentians (more about them later) seemed ok at first – it was just a graze, unsightly but healing well. I had great faith in the Savlon I religiously applied to the wound (having listened to regular sermons on its wonderous healing properties at the Church of Dad).
But alas, this miracle cure didn’t work and by Wednesday it was very sore; by Thursday agony to walk on. I rested it on Thursday but to no avail. Thursday night was a sleepless one, with many painkillers crunched, and swearing in a dark room.
I went to the doctor first thing Friday morning. Well, actually Jamie carried me to see the pharmacist who referred me to a doctor in about 1.4 seconds. I’m not surprised, people were by now recoiling from me like they would a leper or amputee with gangrene, which by now I suspected this was.
The diagnosis was, at least, painless. Just 40RM (about £7) and 15 minutes later I was diagnosed, drugged up and on my way across the border (thank God for the Malaysian Health Service). I let the boys persuade me that getting on a 12-hour train journey was a good idea, even though there were no sleeper berths left and my leg was by then the size of Jonas Lamu’s (“Not that big…maybe a close second”, said Jamie, charitably).
Twelve hours were spent jammed underneath seats in a third class carriage in quite a lot of pain. Self-medicating was fun, though. Apart from the antibiotics and pro-biotics, there were lots of painkillers. I regret to inform people that I did not keep to the recommended dosage on the Nurofen Extra box. I dare you to try in my place. I also was given some mystery pills: “For leg,” said the woman across the aisle. I didn’t bother asking more. They went down without a murmer.
After popping more pills yesterday than an aging hippy, today I feel much better. Under doctors orders I am lying in bed all day today (Saturday) with my leg propped up (in Surat Thani, Thailand for those who keep track). I still can’t walk on it well but I have cut down the pain dosage and the swelling has gone down a bit (think more Johnny Wilkinson, but not in a hot way).
I also have the delight of a photo taken at the raging height of infection with which to gross out other travellers, scare small children and attempt to replicate in make up for Hallowe’en parties. All’s well that ends well, I say.
NB: Photo not being uploaded because just too too grim but available on request for those who are truly debauched or nosy.
Can I see? Email it to me!