Barcelona on Crutches

Before my term abroad in Spain, I had the misfortune of breaking my ankle in two places.  The doctors recommended not to go, considering the fact that it was iffy to go abroad a mere week in a half after surgery but I was determined and left anyway.  I had my bones nailed together and my leg sown up and took off a week later.  It wasn’t until when I finally arrived in Spain that it hit me how iffy my experience was actually going to be.

            The doctor’s orders had been two more weeks on crutches, then one week on one crutch, then the following week with just the boot.  That seemed like nothing to me so I said I was all in.  Little did I know just how hard it was going to be to have to crutch around everywhere in Spain.

            The people in Spain stared at me bewildered the first few days I hopped around.  I seemed to be some sort of alien from another planet to them.  Luckily for me, they are friendly to aliens because I was helped countless times by strangers to cross the street or gimp down stairways.  Though they looked at me a bit strange they still offered a helping hand.

            It only took me a week to realize what the big deal was; it was my crutches.  To me they were sturdy and supportive of my whole upper body, but to the Spaniards they were fat robotic sticks.  I had passed several other people on crutches in the city and couldn’t help but notice how they wrapped twig-like rods around their elbows for support.  In comparison to their crutches, I must have looked massive to these people.

            What’s more is that people on crutches here seem to have mastered the art of taking the bus.  I’m not exaggerating when I say it is an art.  Being able to hop on board, swipe your ticket and crutch smoothly down an isle to a seat is no easy task, believe me I’ve tried.  To them it’s like a nice dip in the pool, quick and elegant.  To me it’s like a UFC cage match.  I’m thrown left and right and don’t always know which way is up once the bus starts moving. There’s definitely technique involved.

            So far I’ve spent the majority of my time in Spain in Barcelona.  Being on crutches has limited my adventures to the bus stop, hobbling around school, and showers (showers are a whole different art in themselves).  I’ve managed to see a bit of Las Ramblas, discover a few good places to eat, and meet a bunch of friendly Spaniards to help me hobble onward with my life.  Things seemed to be moving along.

            Unfortunately this week I learned some not so good news that would once again slow me down.  I have been visiting the doctor frequently to have an eye kept on the incisions on my ankle to make sure everything heals well.  The hospitals here are quite like the ones back home with the exception of everyone talking in a different language.  The stairs even have a handicap lift to carry me to the door which I quite enjoy and it makes the place seem very welcoming.

            Everything seemed to be going fine until a few days ago when yellow and black pus began to form along the cut on the inside of my right foot.  The doctors picked and pulled at the dead skin and the nurses held my hands and kissed my cheeks as they tried to clean it, but it only seemed to be getting worse.  It was then they decided I was to be put on bed rest for 5 days to let my cut heal.  No more cage fights for me.

             The last few days I’ve spent in bed, making up homework and watching movies online, trying to give my cut time to heal.  I’m chauffeured everyday to and from the hospital by taxi, which the school pays for, to have my wound cleaned and things are starting to look up.  All the nurses at the hospital love me and I’m greeted with hugs and kisses every time I go to see the doctor.  They speak to me in Spanish and are very impressed with how well I understand them, though I did tell them I understand it better than I speak it.

            My trip so far has obviously not been the adventure I wanted to have during my time here in Spain, but it has definitely been one hell of a time.  There is still plenty of time to enjoy it the way I had hoped and with the way my cut has been healing, it shouldn’t be long before I’m off crutches and ready to take on Europe with both shoes on my feet. 

            For now, I just have wait a bit longer and keep my fingers crossed everything goes smoothly.  When it’s all said and done, hopefully my right shoe will still fit when it’s all over.