In the second year of my undergrad, I was in this drama class I hated. It totally doesn’t matter to the story that I hated it, but I did, so I said it.

Anyway, we were stuck in this random, very old building on campus for some reason, rather than having a class in the fine arts building, and to say it was drama UNfriendly is a bit of an understatement. It was cold, echo-y, and it had brutal cement/linoleum floors.

We had to sit on those floors for a good portion of the three-hour class, which – guess what I’m gonna say – I hated. One day, we were sitting for an especially long time. So long that my right leg fell asleep. It wasn’t like, tingly asleep, it was like, DEAD LEG NUMB asleep. So when our instructor said, “Okay, everyone on their feet!” and we all had to jump up for our next exercise, I knew I was gonna have a problem.

I got up on my left leg no problem, but because I couldn’t feel my right leg at all, I put it down funny, rolled my ankle, and WENT DOWN. Not only did I fall, I fell over onto the ancient rolling chalkboard I was standing next to, hitting my side on its wooden frame. So that hurt.

But the story gets better.

Obviously, I was mortified about falling over in front of everyone, so I scrambled to get up as quickly as possible. But my leg was still completely numb, so every time I tried to put it down, I would roll my ankle again, stagger, roll my ankle again, etc. I fell over again.

Because it wasn’t cool enough to just fall once.

Did I mention that I was wearing platform creepers?

They looked like this, with a higher platform...
They looked like this, with a higher platform…

Have you seen this video?

That was me.


So that happened, and my foot hurt like hell, but I still had one more class to go to. I limped around campus, went to class, then limped all the way to the subway station to catch the subway downtown, where I would switch to a bus that took me close to home.

SIDENOTE: My subway/bus changeover was at that bus stop.

The tattoo parlour where I got all my work done used to be a block away from my bus stop, and my good friend Brian worked the front desk there, so I would often stop by to say hi and hang out. I think that on that particular day, I went to say hi mostly just so I could sit down for a minute, and also so that I could bitch about my stupid drama class.

“I think I broke my foot.”

“Like, ‘oh, I broke my foot,’ or for real broke it?” Brian asked me as we sat together on the concrete steps in front of the shop.

“I dunno. Maybe for real. It hurts like crazy.”

“Honey, you need to go get an x-ray.”

“I have to work at the bookstore tonight. Ugh.”

“You’re gonna be on your feet?!”

“Yeah. UGH.”

“Get them to give you a chair.”

“We’re not allowed chairs behind the cash desk. This is the worst.”

“Tell them you broke your fucking foot, and they need to give you a fucking chair!”

(I love you, Brian.)

So I limped to the bus, got myself home somehow, and had to change into my work clothes. When I went to take off my shoes, I realized the right one was VERY tight. Sliding it off was excruciating.

I peeled back my sock. My entire foot was PURPLEBLACK.

After staring at it in horror for a few minutes, I put my sock back on, changed my clothes, and went to work a typically crazy shift at the bookstore.

I didn’t get a fucking chair.

By the time I got home that night, I was hallucinating. I was probably high on endorphins or something. I shrugged, took some Advil, and went to bed.

I don’t think I got an x-ray until two days later. It was then that I learned that I had, in fact, fractured my foot. But because of the placement of the fracture, the doctor was pretty blasé.

“If you want a cast, I can put you in a cast, but it’s not going to do much. You’ll be limping until it heals.”

I considered the logistical challenges of riding the bus and the subway and navigating campus on crutches.

“I’ll just limp.”

And I did. For close to four months.

Would it have been less if I hadn’t spent an extra three days putting unnecessary pressure on my foot? Probably.

Lesson learned: Don’t ignore injuries. Also, if you think you broke it, you probably did. Also, if a limb is asleep, it’s asleep. Give it a minute.

You can’t force your limbs awake.

Also maybe don’t do drama class in platforms.*



*Or in my case, don’t do drama class at all. I withdrew a couple weeks later. God, I hated that class.