Okay, so it's been about 8 weeks since the incident in question and a *bit* longer than that since my last post. Bear with! This will be a long one.
Back on the 7th of November, some of my 8th grade students ran into my 9th grade class and asked if I wanted to play basketball in an all-female teachers vs students match. Of course I was game- my 8th graders can be a little bit difficult in the "listening to me" department, so I figured this might be my chance to build some clout while serving as an opportunity to back up my "girls can play any sports that boys can" claim. The next day I was surprised to find out from my host mother, Diana (the accountant at the school), that we would be playing during the 6th lesson that day. To cut a long story short, I ended up fracturing my foot during the game. I was so convinced at the time that it wasn't bone-related that I continued with my plans to visit my friend and m33 volunteer, Emma, in my raion center (about a 15 minute bus ride from my village). That evening, we fashioned togas out of bedsheets and walked to her school for her halloween carnival. We enjoyed the performances, played some games, and stayed afterwards to stamp students' hands as they entered the gym for the discoteca. My foot was wrapped and I had taken ibuprofen, but as we left the school I got a little bit concerned. Close to tears, I made Emma stop not far from the door to take the wrap off of my foot before walking home, which provided some welcome yet temporary relief. After making it back to her home, I took more ibuprofen, elevated it, and "iced" my ever-growing foot (with some frozen fruit). I still managed to make bagel dough with Emma and her host sister, Marina, before going to bed, though.
The next day, after returning to my village, I shared my injury with my host family. Diana immediately jumped into action which resulted in what I now refer to as "potato foot". She peeled some potatoes, mixed the skins with salt, caked it on my then fluid-filled (gross) foot, put it in a plastic bag, and instructed me to go rest. I desperately wanted to shower, but let the potatoes do their potato thing as I called my parents in the US for our weekly chat. As we talked, I went about some chores- did some laundry, hung my clean clothes out to dry, tidied up my room, etc. Looking back, that probably wasn't my smartest, most moment? My mom and I together decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so I called the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) that evening. The doctor instructed me to continue what I had been doing; rest, ice, compress, elevate. She also had me send her some pictures of my, at that point, very colorful foot. The next morning I got the call saying that the PCMO was a little concerned and was sending a car to pick me up and bring me to Chisinau, about a 4 hour rutiera (mini-bus) ride from my village. The car arrived about 3 hours after the call and took me directly to the hospital in the capital, where I met one of the Peace Corps doctors. It was all very efficient and, I must say, a lot less frightening than my x-ray experience in St. Petersburg in the early 2000s. I guess I have a nasty habit of breaking bones in schools in post-soviet countries...
So, I had a fractured bone in my right foot and was prescribed six weeks non-weight bearing in a cast and was told not to go to school for at least three weeks (to eliminate extra risk of falling). I was BUMMED.
Luckily for me, this was all timed very well. Six weeks to the day of getting my cast on was going to be my 25th birthday and three days before my vacation to Italy. At the time, I was crossing my fingers that I would still be able to go on said vacation. After getting my cast, I spent 5 days in medical TDY at the Peace Corps office with two other volunteers who I quickly bamboozled into being my friends and who so kindly would pick me up food, as I was not mobile in the slightest. I repaid them by making bagels and chocolate chip cookies and entertaining them with my stellar personality. I was driven home that Friday for the weekend but picked up again on Monday morning and brought back to TDY. I had conference/training with my fellow m34 EEs from Wednesday-Friday and Thanksgiving celebrations with friends that following weekend. I climbed (hopped up?) a LOT of stairs that week and was exhausted by the time I returned home. My first two weeks of cast life had passed quickly, which I was grateful for. Now I was at the beginning of my third week of recovery and, I had hoped, my last week not being able to go to school. Annoyed at myself about not being able to help my host family with chores, having to hop everywhere, and (me being extraordinarily clumsy) continuously falling down around the house, I was feeling pretty down and useless. Words of encouragement from my friends and family, the company of my host sister who was also home-bound with the chicken pox, and a Marvel movie marathon got me through that week. I excitedly went to school the following Monday for my two classes, but timing was not on my side and that night it snowed. I was unable to get to school the following few days. Cue more frustration.
The next week, I had decided: I was getting to school! I departed my house with confidence but unfortunately only got a few steps from my gate before deciding that it was too dangerous to try to crutch the rest of the way, as I had already slipped a couple of times. I went back to my kitchen utterly defeated. After telling her that it was too dangerous to go alone, my host mom (the angel that she is) told me to wait for her and we would go together. With her help, I made it to and from school that day. The next few days and the following week were a tradeoff between my host father, Vasile, driving me to school when he was at home and walking with Diana. I crutched home by myself on most days.
The third weekend in December brought English Education Sharing Experiences, a time for the cohorts to get together and, you guessed it, share experiences with each other. The trip to Chisinau was a welcome change of scenery, as I was feeling a little bit cabin fever-y at this point. Luckily volunteers from both cohorts were very patient with me and many were willing to share taxis to get from place to place. The following weekend was finally time for my cast to come off and allowed me to celebrate my birthday and new found foot freedom in the capital with some other PCVs. I traded my cast for a walking boot and my crutches for a cane, but I was finally cast and crutch free!! On Monday I bid farewell to the walking boot and by Wednesday I was kicking off my Italy vacation at the Chisinau airport with Aleisha and Megan.
It was inarguably a very tough six weeks and I'm not sure I'll play basketball for a little while, but I'm also not sure I would go back and change it if I could. Fracturing my foot directly lead to making at least six new friends, helped me get to know some of my fellow teachers a bit better, showed me how caring my students can be, and reminded me that I can't always prepare for what might come next.
I am still experiencing some foot pain and stiffness each day, which serves as a reminder to take it easy for a while, but I am so happy to be mobile. I'm re-inserting myself into chores around the house and I finally feel useful again. I'm excited to dive into this new semester of school, get some of my ideas off the ground, and work on advancing my language skills.
Wishing you all a very Happy New Year from Moldova!
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