Showing posts with label broken leg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label broken leg. Show all posts

Monday, 4 May 2020

The Year After The Night Before

365 days ago on a dark and stormy night in a foreign land, I found myself forlorn and alone, stranded and wounded. Fearing for my life after a horrific accident that would change the rest of my life, seeing months squandered in a painstaking recovery both physically and psychologically...
 

Who am I kidding?!

It was a mild night in at the beginning of the summer, just as the temperature is maturing from spring and I had met up with accompanied a good friend from my Koh Rong days, Dennis, to one of his friends birthday parties.on the promise to myself of not showing him up, I vowed not to drink too much. But then my hand outstretched at the bar and a beer-too-many accidentally fell into my mouth, which later resulted in a slip of footing and a battle with the cobbled streets of Graz, Austria. Curb 1-0 Becca. After much conversation to and fro , everyone decided it'd be best for me to end my evening there and get an ambulance to hospital (much against my wishes... For both ending my night and going to hospital). Once safely strapped in, and with the blue lights flashing, Dennis and I proceeded to take some selfies in the ambulance, joke around with the doctors, then he joyrode a wheelchair whilst I got my diagnosis....a fracture tibia. 


"At least I haven't broken my leg!" I thought. Swiftly being corrected and learning that a fracture is a break. A fracture tibia means I broke my leg. The fun and games ended a few days later when I realized the difficulty showering, making myself a cuppa, the sheer drop that comes with missing a step on the stairs...and that I'd have to move back in with my Mum and Dad for the first time in years...but hey- if it's not a good time it's a good story. Right? And it certainly wasn't a night to forget...if only I could remember most of it.

 



   Needless to say it was a defining moment of my year at least on those (wonky) streets in Austria.

 

The next few months saw me return to La Case de Old Lady y Baldy, after an entertaining conversation with my Mum on the phone which said in a more explicit tone "You're ever so silly, Rebecca. I wonder what thought would've skipped through your mind for you to wonder so carefree around those streets. Your vision must've been clouded through the slight inebriation of one tickle of larger too many" which I did receive a heads up text from my Dad about saying;

"told her not to be to tough wiv u x"

I'm glad I got the heads up, I would've been more glad if my mother had listened that advice. 

 

My active lifestyle of snowboarding, via ferrata, hiking (does dancing on tables count as a sport?) was very quickly reduced to a daily climb up the stairs, a hobble to the toilet, and a hop to the kitchen once an hour. Entertainment I normally source from a social with friends, an excursion to grab a coffee, or a stroll around the outdoors was rapidly reduced to whatever I could find on Netflix, solitaire on my laptop, or the ever-dreadful-but-addictive SCROLL. Eventually I strained my eyes from watching screens all day (and I even convinced myself I had an eyefloater taking over the entirety of my left side vision and a brain tumor...thanks for that one google). It was just a temporary lifestyle change for me, luckily. But it doesn't change how dramatic that shift was.

 

Eight weeks after that initial hangover, my cast was off and leg was free to face the world again. Now resembling a flakey, undercooked, and rolled-on-the-floor-and-covered-in-hair crossiant. 

 

Saturday, 31 August 2019

Semolina in my soul


If you told me aged 15-19 that one day I'd be working in my own pizza kitchen I'd fully believe I'd be living the dream. Not to say that's not true-but god, semolina gets EVERYWHERE. And I mean everywhere. But here I am approaching the end of the summer already and I think it's fair to say it's the closest to being abroad that this summer could've brought me.

Things that make it like a different country down here;




  • The weather is better*
If you exclude the extreme wind and rain a few weeks back that killed the pubs' pontoon and sounded like our caravan would be joining Dorothy on the was to Kansas. Maybe the weather just seems a little bit nicer when you have views like this to look at rather than Crawley High Street. 


*We don't talk about Boardmasters either. My dreams of seeing Jax Jones are delayed yet again, one day I might get to this damn Cornish festival! 

  • It's basically a different language
Either everyone is posh as or fully country. I feel like I can really relate to this scene in Hot Fuzz now. 

  • They use water transport as a direct way to get about
Legit, pack your paddle board, kayak and dingy to get about. You'll need it. Or in my case- a giant inflatable flamingo.




What's been going on other wise? Apart from making a few hundred pizzas a week (and having nightmares about that damn oven and cheese) we went into Falmouth the other week for a jolly and have a fiesta with the Mariachi band. They've been a favourite of Craig's since they became his Glastonbury 2014's highlight. I'm sure it was a great night....something I realised is that Drunk Becca isn't as good at the whole "no cheesy chips and burger sauce" thing....

We had our village Regatta in the middle of August. It was a great day, all I saw all day was the pizza oven, but with a good team (and a couple of Rattlers) it made it a great day and night. Most successful for the pub so far! 

We've also got a new boat for the pub so been heading out into the passage with that, been camping, paddleboarding and as my leg is getting better I'm hopefully gonna try some surfing again soon.  






















Saturday, 3 August 2019

Saying hello to Helford





What's new! 

Well for starters my leg is finally getting back to normal (apart from my new pirate inspired scar). Had my cast off at the end of June and had the grand reveal of a beautiful yeti-inspired limb. But every day my leg is getting better, I have almost mastered stairs. My hobble is now a walk, but my fast walk is now a hobble...but it's all baby steps (if you pardon the pun).






June and July have seen reunions and hangs with a few old friends! My girl Petra, who I met on Koh Rong, has been in town. So we've been chilling, driving, BBQing and getting Trollied (but not how me normally do, this time it involved Aldi, a lack of wheelchair and an actual trolley). Me, Petra and Sean went to NASS a couple weekends ago. Its a BMX/Skate/Drum'n'Bass festival in Bristol and let's just say a lot has changed since my last festival...mostly me getting older. I must have missed the memo where fishnet shorts and the neon thongs combo became a thing...


Another reunion was with my old shipmate, the drunken sailor- Big Gay Will! From the dawn, to Cambodia, to the snooty fox and wherever next!













And most recently having Kirstyn come down from Glasgow, spontaneously, for the weekend! We had lunch with Nan and Grandad so she had a proper English culture exchange and witnessed a proper "Stannard goodbye" and the Nan-At-The-Window Wave. I decided to show her the sights if Crawley High Street on a Friday night and Jubilee Oak in its full glory- then a sunny Saturday in Brighton.



And as much as I hate to say it I have had a good time living back at home- surprisingly I have a tan to prove it! Its been great having catch ups with the fans, BBQ's, babysitting, dogsitting, getting drunk phone calls from mum etcetc


But alas, for now I have moved down to the West Coast for the summer and can now add the title "Pizza Chef" to my resume as I spend the next 8 weeks with my bicycle and paddleboard exploring Helford and Falmouth,  eating some pasties, and enjoying a rattler (or two).
















Monday, 3 June 2019

The Road to Recovery (and the wheels that are dragging me there)

-This Post is Soundtracked by Chamillionaire -



It's now been 29 days since my incident; and only 25 days till I have my cast off... but hey- who's counting? HA HA HA 


I'm now back in the motherland, after a 3 hour bus and a wheelchair chauffeured trip around Vienna airport. No longer funemployed just regularly unemployed, back at my parents' house. Spending my weekends sipping gin and juice, playing scrabble, updating my tinder profile and trying not to make the most of the infinite scroll feature on every social media website. I've been lucky enough to borrow my grandads scooter so I can get about a bit more easy, much to everyone's amusement. 




making dreamcatchers with Lolo

personal slave AKA Mum 

Bank Holiday Weekend we drove about 15KM with the tent and a broken leg wasn't enough to keep me from enjoying the annual family camp, a few ciders, some big catchups, and non-stop laughing at Spongebob quotes with my brother.  

 Even though I can't be up to my normal antics, my friends are. My friend, Jordan from Mayrhofen, was hitch hiking (unsuccessfully) from London to Scotland. And after his attempts from 4am had failed to see him out of the city he came down to Crawley for the night and we had a scoot up to Tilgate Park to visit the alpacas. He has a warm shower, a comfy bed and I know how much appreciated that can be when you're on the road.

So right now I'm trying to use all this freetime to get some yoga in and get engaged with my core(?), try convert my family to veganism by cooking some dinners and experimenting with some new recipes (before I'm back on a beans on toast diet again), and not spend all my minutes watching Brooklyn 99.