I’m zone 9 (which I didn’t even know was a thing until a few years ago) and it’s pretty Dante-esque

The wonderful London Ambulance crew reset my dislocation, and got me into A&E, where the wonderful A&E crew popped a cast on me (excruciating). I was delightfully out of it. There’s video evidence of this, because I inexplicably thought it would be A Right Laugh to record myself. No idea why.

According to my friend, as soon as the ambulance arrived and I was given the /good stuff/, I became much calmer in one way, and MUCH WORSE in others: take from these screenshots what you will.

Massive appreciation too to the people - harried commuters and tourists alike - who stopped and comforted also. I’ll never forget the man who urged me to squeeze his hand as hard as I could, nor the woman who sat at my torso facing me so that I couldn’t see the state my leg and ankle was in.

Luckily I was with my oldest and best friend at the time, who is utterly EXCELLENT in an emergency, and who immediately jumped into action, phoning an ambulance and holding my leg up while I screamed.

…not so fine.

One moment everything is normal, and the next… things are very much /not/ normal. My foot - which was previously oriented normally, with toes pointing due north - is now looking very NOT-okay, with toes now facing south-south-west. My lower leg is at a startling 90 degree angle.

Picture the scene: it’s early evening in late May, I’ve just finished a long day’s work; running around the city, up and down stairs, lifting and carrying heavy boxes of documents, navigating old Court buildings, cobbled streets, curbs, potholes…

All fine.

Walking towards the tube? Flat surface?

Hitchcock’s Rebecca is my absolute favourite. Joan Fontaine is just… perfection.