Iodine is social

Thursday I had an operation on my foot. I went to Herttoniemi orthopaedic hospital at an ungodly hour and checked myself into a gown and some nice pink pyjamas. Jukka was disgusted to learn that I found the hospital pyjamas comfy and the bed great and the food yummy. He looked at me as if I come from a third world country when I was impressed that I'd be in a room with five beds instead of in a massive ward with about 12 beds like in England.

When I got there, three other girls were in the ward and I was told I'd be operated on about 12, during which time I had to listen to girl #2 talk about every operation, medical procedure and illness that she's had. She seemed to have had the misfortune to contract EVERY DISEASE IN THE WORLD and then had it misdiagnosed or made worse by every medical professional there is.

In contrast to what I thought, having known myself for a good 22 years now, I was far less a wimp than I expected. I wasn't nervous before I got my pre-operation medication and definitely wasn't nervous afterwards. I've never felt so comfortable and relaxed as I was just before I was about to have my leg mauled. I had an injection in my spine and then they let me watch the operation on a screen. For some reason the insides of my ankle reminded me of an underwater nature documentary. No longer will I believe that I have "torn a ligament" or "sprained an ankle" because now I know the truth: something has disturbed the seaweed.

Halfway through the operation the doctor decided he needed to reattach a ligament as well as just removing two pieces of bone from my ankle. It was originally thought I had one piece of bone in my ankle, but it appears that the first one had brought a friend. This means that I have to wear this contraption on my leg for a month.



Unfortunately, although it looks cool, the AIRCAST is disappointingly boring. I have to increase or decrease the pressure with a small pump depending on how swollen my ankle is. To make this seem more fun I have decided to think of the robotic terminator leg as a turboleg. The pressure gauges on the side are not actually pressure gauges, but JETPACKS.


Yes, that is a missile that it fired. And the skull and crossbones float above it constantly. It is so hardcore at helping to heal my leg that every now and again it bursts into flames just to prove it. Of course, it doesn't do this all the time, because people would get jealous and try to develop their own orthopaedic ailments just to get their own turboleg.

In actual fact I'm hobbling around my apartment looking like this:
Notice the smile, which is a result of codeine (and my shirt), and the hair, which is a result of the "I can't leave my invalid-unfriendly apartment so why should I even bother" mindset. As you can see, the iodine from the first picture has spread from my left leg to my pyjama trousers. It's also on the top of my right foot, the palm of my hand and all over my bathroom floor. It spreads to everything but simultaneously refuses to leave my left leg. And it looks like pee. Every time I try to shower or get rid of it, it looks like I had an accident on the floor. I have now changed tactics and am planning to wait for it to slough off with the rest of my skin. Yum.

So here I am at home with four weeks' sick leave and dangerous stairs to conquer if I want to go outside. This means I need to find something to do. Sure at the moment I have Jukka as my butler but he has to leave tomorrow and I need to find something to do with my time. I could write my master's, but I think there's an unwritten rule that you aren't allowed to do ANYTHING useful on your sick leave. Suggestions? :)