As I mentioned in my last, somewhay concise, post, I suffered an injury yesterday. A broken ankle to be precise.

It was the first of five days leave I have from work (or seven including the weekend) and I’d taken a trip to Manchester with my wife and her sister. They were off to see a show while I planned to just wander around the city taking pictures. And all was going to plan for several hours. I visited Real Camera to have a browse (and ended up buying a couple of rolls of expired slide film, because, of course, I really need more film to add to the already packed drawer that I’ve commandeered in the freezer), had some passport photos made in the old-style analogue photo booth in the Fred Aldous store (not for my actual passport, but just because I could. The photos are now stuck on the side of the fridge along with loads on Instap pictures). I treat myself to a nice burger and fries for my lunch and, of course, I took pictures. I had a couple of cameras on me – my Olympus 35 RC loaded with one of my two remaining rolls of Portra 800, and my Canon Z135 compact containing some Ilford HP5+.

After wandering around for a few hours I decided to visit the art gallery an it was when I left the gallery that disaster struck. Just outside the main entrance, down a short flight of steps, there were some benches in the shade of the building. Thinking it would be nice to take the weight off for a few minutes I headed down and, as I stepped down the bottom step my right foot twisted awkwardly beneath me with a distinctive snappining sound.

I had an immediate sickening sense of dread and planted myself straight on the bench to take the weight off my legs. There was no actual pain as such, just an odd, numb tingling sensation, the sort you get if you bang your elbow, so I decided to stand up and see how bad it was. Luckily I was able to bear weight and, after messaging my wife to tell her what had happened and that I was taking an ealier train home, I set off limping back to the railway station. Walking was awkward but not especially painful and I managed to get to the station without issue. Unfortunately the next train was cancelled so I had to wait around for over half-an-hour for the next train, which I rather not have had to do, but I guess that’s life (and my luck).

When I got back to Sheffield I took a taxi from the station to the Accident & Emergency department where I spent around four hours waithing for x-rays and to speak with the nurse about the prognosis. I managed to buy myself an actual analog newspaper from the station before getting the taxi as I suspected I might be in the hospital for a while and my phone battery wouldn’t last out. It was a good decision and I read the paper front-to-back while I waited to be seen by various people.

The x-rays showed I had broken a fragment of bone from the bottom of my fibula. While this is painful, I was told that it would have been worse had the break occurred further up the bone close to where the tibula meets the bones of my foot as it would likley have restricted my mobility more severerly and would take longer to heal. The injury I have should be healed within four-to-six weeks, and I was given a large plastic “walking boot” to wear if I need to go out. Thankfully, there is little to no pain while I’m at rest, and I was able to sleep perfectly well last night. The ankle feels sore while I walk about, but again not too bad, and I can move it around quite freely, so I guess I should count my lucky stars that it wasn’t worse than it is.

I think my main upset is that it’s kinda ruined my days off – I had things planned that I’m now unable to do because, while I need to use the ankle to encourage it to heal, this probably doesn’t stretch to full days out on my feet. I also can’t drive for a while, so I’m at the mercy of the goodwill of others if I want to go somewhere. My planned trips out into the Peak district this week, and to Lincoln Steam Rally the following weekend (the first time it has been on in three years) have fallen by the wayside, so I’m frustrated that the opportunity to photograph heather while it’s in bloom, or see the vintage vehicles at the rally will now have to wait another year. There are worse things in life though, so maybe I’ll just count my blessings and enjoy the next fews days away from work by watching TV, reading books, and playing videogames with the spare time I’ve got. At least I have a good excuse for avoiding chores!

I’ve got four full rolls of 35mm film that I’ve yet to upload (or, in some cases, scan), including the roll of Porta 800 from yesterday that I almost finished in Manchester (but ended up using the last two frames photographing some hospital buildings while waiting for my wife to pick me up). So I should be able to feed the blog until I’m back on my feet at least.

Finally, today’s picture of a chair in a shady spot under a tree looks like just the place for a chap with the busted ankle. Maybe with a cold beverage. If only this were my back garden and not in a churchyard several miles away, eh? 🙂

Holga 120N & Fomapan 100. Adox Adonal 1+100 18mins @ 20°.

Taken on 9 July 2022