Today, due to the absolutely appalling weather (an inch of rain-slicked ice on all the sidewalks, caused by a storm that also prevented Jack Layton from getting into Quebec City), our original plan to do a door-to-door pamphlet drop was cancelled in favour of going into big apartment buildings and stuffing their mailboxes.
We had done six - two low-cost housing developments in Verdun and four condo buildings in Nun’s Island - when, leaving a building, I slipped, rotated through about 45 to 90 degrees, fell hard, and let out a burst of invective - I had non-trivially damaged my ankle. First thought: “I don’t have time for this!”
It was fortunate that I was with my amazing volunteer Patrick in a car, as he was able to get me to a local clinic (rather stupidly situated just about as far as possible from the entrance of the shopping mall it was in - I had to use a shopping cart as a walker, cursing all the way). The doc thought it was a twist, but she sent me for X-rays to be sure. Crutches were rented and pills bought. At the X-ray clinic in Verdun (immensely stupidly located up stairs!!) it was confirmed that my ankle was broken and that I should go to the emerge.
On the way out, being unused to crutches, I fell partway down the stairs. Pas fort, mon affaire. sigh
Anyway, after much hopping about, we headed up to Mom’s hospital and the doc (a friend of hers) put a temporary splint on. I’m to go tomorrow to buy an air cast.
I have three different campaign appearances tomorrow, and maybe some mainstreeting; I’m hoping to go for the sympathy vote. No more door-to-door, of course.
So there you have it. Most people break their first bone as a kid, tearing around or playing sports or whatnot. Me, I break mine campaigning.
Politics: an extreme sport.