Zumba's Revenge

I had planned to get fit. You know, doing lots of stuff, walking and going to the gym. Well, so much for that - for the next month or so at least.

It was yesterday at 6pm. My first ever Zumba class. I've always been fascinated by the idea and wanted for a long time to give it a go. So I did. 

It was the freaking warm-up song. It was not hard or fast; just step to this side, then the other. Easy peasy. Then - bam.

I stepped back, leaned against the wall, and clutched at my right calf. It was just like one of those nighttime leg cramps I get sometimes if I don't eat enough bananas. You know the kind.

Except it didn't go away.

I finished out the class on one foot and just doing the arm movements. Called Mum for a lift home (my car is still not going), ascended to my room with great difficulty and attempted to settle down for the night. Half an hour later I was sobbing into my sleeves with the pain, which still has not changed in the slightest since it happened.

So I called Mum again and off we went to the after-hours doctor. Probably torn, she said, but you need an ultrasound to be certain, and they were already closed. Ultrasound today showed a 2-inch tear on the inside of the leg, just above the sock line.

I'm not to put weight on it for 3 weeks, maybe 4. I'm a total klutz with the crutches and totally immobile without them. Going downstairs involves sliding on my rear and coming up involves crawling. 

Thank goodness for Mum - she's helped me set up my room so I can manage. It's going to be an interesting few weeks mostly stuck in here.

I have a massive to-do list, but a good deal of it is going to have to wait. At least I can do my desk work, in bed, sort of...