One heck of a fall
I am so embarrassed right now I can’t even deal. It’s just been one of those days, you know? Or, even worse, it was more five horrible minutes that I’ll never be able to erase from my memory for as long as I live. Worse still, I have this constant reminder of it for the rest of my life thanks to the diagnosis I got from the orthotics place in Cheltenham.
I have always been a clumsy child. Mum’s had me tested for glasses more times than I can count, just to make sure there wasn’t something really wrong with my vision or anything like that. I have the special ability of being able to trip over anything: the joints between pavement, the tip of my shoe … heck, I can even fall up a flight of stairs. Anyway, today, like it so often does, my extreme clumsiness managed to get the better of me. At school, there’s a flight of stairs that runs from the first story down to the ground in one long line – without any sharp bends or anything. While walking down, carrying a load of books, I tripped (over who knows what) and fell down the whole freaking thing, messing up my foot in the process, only to end up lying with my skirt around my head as the school principal walked past, unable to move through the pain.
It turns out that in my fall (which I swear went for at least an hour, but my friend watching from the top says was only a maximum three minutes of hilarity) I managed to do something to my foot. Obviously, I knew that at the time, due to the fact that it turn like a mother – but it was only the next day, at the podiatrist in Cheltenham mum always goes to, that I found out I’d seriously wrecked it. May for good. Who knows? I guess I’ll have to wait and see.