I wish I had broken my ankle

No, I haven't gone nuts. I'm just frustrated. I'm so tired of having to rely on other people, and not having hand free to do things with, to carry things. Changing the sheets and remaking the bed are not fun. New 400 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets however ...

This week, both my GP and my physio have told me that being thankful I hadn't broken my ankle was slightly skewed, as it would take less time to heal. I've stretched the soft tissue on the outside of my foot really badly, and compressed the soft tissue on the inside of my foot really badly. It will be 4 weeks tomorrow since I fell, and I've still got a beautifully swollen and bruised ankle, which is generating enough heat to fry an egg.

I want to wear a pair of shoes. That would be nice. I don't own a shoe big enough to put over my tubigrip, my sock and the medieval torture device that is my brace. Although, if you put wheels, a toe and a stopper on it, it would make a great roller skate. Skateranch, here I come!~

I want to go out for dinner tonight, but it has been raining (bring it on!!) and everything is slippery and I don't feel like sitting through dinner with a wet foot. We are either going to get home delivery, or the boy will go out and get something for us. I don't like my chances of watching the new comedy show on the ABC though - my boy knows a bit too well how much Paul McDermott is on my list and will just offer to leave us alone. Might just record that one.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling dow-own

I'm sick to death of crutches. I'm sick of being sore. I hate that the pain and lack of sleep are making me cranky and snappy. I'm frustrated that when I try to do things, I'm really bad at knowing when to stop so I hurt more and then my physio tells me off because my ankle has swollen back up again to nearly double size. I hate even more that I can't do anything physical, so when I've got the pain under control I'm not tired enough to sleep.

Sick of me yet? I am. I've started about 6 posts in the last week and haven't finished any of them because they all descend into wallowing, ranting, frustration and self pity. Over it. Because I have to stay put, I don't want to read, and I've got the attention span of a gnat when it comes to tv or dvd's.

I'm really bad at asking for help though. Being the control freak from hell, I still keep trying to do things for myself rather than ask someone else to help me. God forbid I should have to rely on someone else to do something for me, and admit that I can't do everything. I hate admitting that I can't do something (bloody minded, me?) and at the same time I feel guilty asking someone else to help because they are busy and have things to do too. It is different when someone notices that I need help - I'm happy to accept it then. I wonder why that is?