Truthfully, there are a lot of aspects of my life here that I do quite enjoy. There's always something going on, if I feel like checking out the town. I'm quite happy to be forced to do so much walking (and so is my waistline). My roommates are great and I've made a few more friends. My room is spacious and my bed is pretty comfortable. Life in London is good!
But I have to be honest, there are darker moments. There have been minutes / hours / days when I question myself, my choices and my vocation. I wonder if I'm really meant to be a teacher (or rather, whether I want to be a teacher anymore). I wonder why the heck I thought it was a good idea to move so far away from everything I know.
I'm not homesick. At least not in the way I've felt homesickness before. Heck, I've only been here two-and-a-half weeks; my heart is still in vacation-mode! But there are things I wish I still had. Friends' faces I wish I could see. Dinners with my family I wish I could share. A job I left that I'm only realizing now how much I loved. If only I could somehow mesh my lives - all of the best parts of Canada magically shipped over so that they existed here.
Apart from that, I'm still me. And, true to clumsy-Angela form, mishaps occur.
~~~~~
I was on my way to work on Friday morning, purse on my shoulder, my "everything I need today" bag in my hand. The first few portions of my walk-tube-walk-train-walk-bus-walk trip was complete, and I was about to catch my bus. The only glitch was that my bus stop had closed down the day before, so I was searching for an alternate stop. Crossing the street at a crosswalk, still craning my eyes to search for said stop, I was distracted by an approaching car that screeched to a halt at its red light (which the driver clearly noticed at the last minute). In that moment of distraction, my foot found a pothole in the ground and BOOM, I was sprawled in the middle of the street, belongings (and shoes) strewn around me.
Now, for those of you in Canada, I need to paint a bit of a picture for you. This is NOT North America. Pedestrians do NOT have the right-of-way in any and all situations. If you are crossing the street by foot, and a car is coming, it will NOT slow down for you. It will careen past, nearly missing you, honking all the while. And if you REALLY get in the way, the driver will stop the car, get out and yell at you for being in the way. Plus, the green-walk signs at the crosswalks are VERY short, so there's really no time allowance for crawling across a street while strangers pick up your belongings and you try to put your shoes back on.
In a panic, I managed to get to the side of the road, reassemble myself and my bags, and assure the friendly people that I was fine (I was not, but that's what you say when you're mortified). Still on a mission to find the bus stop (and still not knowing if it's going to even be there), I hobbled a block up the street. Fortunately, it wasn't too far, and the bus WAS listed, so I breathed a sigh of relief and sat on the tiny bus bench (picture a slightly slanted metal bar about 6 inches wide).
Immediately, nausea and panic swept over me. It's hard to describe what came over me, but a wave of black seemed to take over my consciousness, and I thought for sure I was going to pass out. The only conscious thought I could form was that I was NOT okay and I could not take care of myself. I began to worry about what would happen to me and my stuff if I did pass out at the bus stop. I considered stumbling into a nearby shop to seek help, but then the bus came. After a moment's consideration, I decided that a bus driver (in my eyes, a member of public service) could in fact be the best person to turn to if I did come to the point of not being able to care for myself.
It is a strange feeling to know that you are not well and not able to help yourself. I'm such an independent person that it is inconceivable that I might not be able to do things for myself and that I might need to put myself in the hands of a stranger in order to be okay. Frightening.
Anyway, I got on the bus. By this time, I had remembered the bottle of water I was carrying so I was drinking that. After about 20 minutes, I started to feel a bit better. Mind you, the pain in my right ankle (and my left knee, and my right thigh) was throbbing and I was constantly worried that someone was going to jar it again. I was sweating and peeling layers (scarf, jacket, etc.), with nowhere to put them but my own lap. Needless to say, it was probably the least comfortable 20 minutes of my life!
Finally my bus reached my destination. Gingerly testing my ankle, I hopped off the bus and limped up to the school. I've been there for two weeks now, so I'm well-known by the staff. My partner teacher and TA helped me with plasters (band-aids) and an ice pack. By the time the kids came in, the cold pack was wrapped tightly around my ankle, secured with my bright pink scarf (that's hot...).
The students were all my "helpers" for the day, retrieving items and putting things away. They were also very sweet about making sure I was "okay" and asking how I was doing.
The teachers urged me to go to the Hospital to get it x-rayed and checked out. Apparently, I can write to the Council for compensation if the hole I tripped in was "larger than a 50p coin" (which it DEFINITELY is). But I don't have my National Insurance Number yet (which means I'm not registered as a local to receive health benefits). I could use the travel insurance I purchased in Canada before I left, but it just seems like too much of a hassle when the doctor is just going to tell me to ice it and keep it up. I can think of those things all by myself...
Two days later, I'm still not walking properly. I'm a lot better than I was on Friday, but I'm still limping and don't have full range of motion in my ankle. Hopefully it's better again tomorrow, since I won't be able to sit around all day to rest it!
Ouch! Sounds like a rough day. Your ankle looks pretty painful. It sounds like you're adjusting well though, despite missing parts of home and the occasional mishap. At least you have only committed to 6 months, so if you don't start to love living in London, you can come home. Hope you feel better soon.
ReplyDeleteOh dear! Keep an eye on that ankle... I went around for 10 days on what I thought was a sprain... until I finally got it x-rayed and was told that it was actually broken. :S
ReplyDeleteIf your swelling doesn't go down and is purply-blue, you might want to get it x-rayed.
Take care, Angela!
~Candyce