... or close enough, anyway.
I went to hospital last Friday to get x-rays and double-check the damage. Turns out I didn't break anything - mind you, the girl labelled my x-rays "left foot" when quite clearly it was the right, what with the enormous swelling and all. And before you start on the Queensland Health jokes, I had in fact ventured to the St Andrews Emergency Centre, a private hospital for war veterans. I'm not sure whether it was a compliment to have a nurse say to me "You're the healthiest person I've seen all week!". Certainly I felt a bit bad being wheeled around in a chair - but then, it would've taken me an hour to limp from triage to the x-ray centre.
I was amused at overhearing a doctor try to diagnose a poor old bugger who'd been brought in with some sort of breathing difficulty and possibly an exisiting condition. I say 'overhear' as if I was eavesdropping but in fact you can't really help it when the doctor leans into said old bugger and yells: "Why are you in the hospital today? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?"
No wonder the old dude was confused. Isn't it the doctors' job to find out?
They gave me crutches and a compression sock (TUBIGRIP!), which subsequently got covered in fake blood in the final two performances of Prognosis: Death! Pandemic, giving my injury an even creepier appearance. They were great shows, and I managed to stay upright and walking for the duration, but the act of wearing shoes has somewhat brought up the purplish-green bruising on the old footsie.
I still haven't taken any painkillers for it; it's just more inconvenient to get around on. A pity too, as I would have loved to spend some money going clothes shopping on my holiday, which is rapidly approaching its end (and yet, I don't feel rested). Mind you, the $250 hospital trip did somewhat deplete my fiscal resources. That's why you'll see I've used Blogger's new pages function to set up a section all about me, in the hope that someone might hire me to do some freelance copywriting or travel writing or writing about anything for them. I may be Captain Limpy, but I'm cheap, y'all.