Discouraging Words from the Doctor

I went to the fracture clinic this morning to see Dr. Sawbones. He studied the recent x-ray.

"Is the fibula healed yet, Doc?" I asked hopefully.

"No," he replied. "But it's coming along."

They always say that, don't they? It's coming along. So's a cow's tail, I wanted to tell him.

"When can I get rid of this cast?"

"When the bone is healed."

"How come it's taking so long to heal?"

"Well, you're not a kid anymore, ya know."

Yeah. Thanks for the reminder.

"How's your foot coming along?" he asked.

"Well," I said. "It's not coming along worth a shit, really. But thanks for asking."

I showed him how little I can move my foot.

"Hmmm," he said and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "Do you have an appointment for an EMG?"

Electromyogram, Ms J. A conductivity test to see if there's nerve damage in my leg/foot.

"Yeah. May 16th," I told him.

"Well, there's not much point in me seeing you before those tests are done. Come back and see me around the end of the month."

My next appointment to see this guy is on May 24th. It's a Tuesday, I think. He'll x-ray me again and let me know if my cast can come off permanently, and if I'll be able to walk normally again. The play in Caledon opens on May 26th. I need that cast to be off by then.

The play calls for my character, Gilbert Fleet, to fall off a ladder and break his leg. He crawls painfully up the stairs from his basement flat to bang on his landlady's door.

"Sorry to disturb you, Barbara," he says. "But I think I've broken my leg."

I'll talk to Val about my situation. We may have to amend Gilbert's line a bit.

"Sorry to disturb you, Barbara, but I think I've broken my other leg."