I’ve got to be the clumsiest person in the world. Every second week I’m injured from either falling over or something falling into me. I don’t know why I manage to attract so much danger and bad luck, but it is what it is.
Yesterday, in perfect accordance with my bi-weekly injury tally, I fell over and injured my foot. Now, I’m no stranger to foot injuries. When you fall over as much as I do, you’re bound to injure your foot at least once every couple of months. As soon as I felt the sharp pain in my foot that I’ve felt so many times before, I knew that I would have to call my podiatrist. Cheltenham is a relatively big suburb, and so my podiatrist has a lot of clients that she attends to. I doubt she is able to remember them all by name, but she without a doubt remembers me. We’ve honestly become friends over the last ten years, due to the fact I have to visit her every couple of months or so.
I often wonder if she has any other patients like me. I assume she would see some patients just as regularly, but probably for more serious ongoing issues. Every time I visit her I’m visiting for a different reason, purely because I’ve hurt myself in the days before.
I remember once I really threw a spanner in the works when I visited my podiatrist for an issue that wasn’t related to a foot injury. This was the most embarrassed I had been going into her practice, even more embarrassed than when I dropped a hammer on my foot and it was blue and swollen. I was embarrassed because I had toenail fungus.
I had accidentally let the fungus spread across all my toes when I was distracted by an injury to my collarbone. She was shocked that I had come into her practice for anything other than an injury, but I think she was also pleasantly surprised that I hadn’t hurt myself for once. I didn’t tell her about the issues I was facing with my collarbone…