Extreme Karaoke

October 4, 2007

When I met Signe for lunch the other day, I was hoping to take some pictures of her broken ankle; however, when I saw her walking towards me, I didn't see a cast. She wasn't walking with a cane or a crutch.

"What's going on?" I said.

She lifted the leg of her jeans and showed me the slim, removable cast underneath.

"That's not much of a picture," I said.

"I know. Sorry. You can take a picture another day. I'll wear shorts or something."

"Yeah, okay. We can take some pictures in your backyard."

"You're not allowed in my apartment until I clean it up. I've been housebound, and the place is a mess."

"I don't care about a mess."

"I know, but I do."

I told her that I would be going away for my birthday, and I wanted to know if she'd still be in the cast when I got back. The way she was walking around, it looked like it was healing pretty quickly.

"I'm not sure. But I can always put it on for a picture. No one will know the difference."

"True."

We sat at an outdoor cafe and talked for half an hour about injuries and work and life, and then she had to go. "I shouldn't have had that coffee," she said. "It made me all jittery."

I didn't expect to see Signe again anytime soon. Although we tell each other we will, months can go by before we do. Nevertheless, when I found out I was released from work and had the day off today, I sent Signe a text message to see what she was up to.

"I broke my toe yesterday," she wrote in response. "So you should get some gnarly foot shots."

I called her immediately.

"Yeah, I broke my toe," she said. "Isn't that ridiculous? I was hobbling across the apartment with my broken ankle, trying to answer the telephone, when I swung my foot into a piece of furniture. I missed the call, of course, and when I looked down, I saw that my little toe was pointed in completely the wrong direction. Uh oh, I thought, that can't be good."

"Oh well, if you're going to break your toe, I guess it's a good time to do it. Better now than after your ankle is completely healed, right?"

"Right. But still, I can't help thinking that someone upstairs has it in for me."

And how did Signe break her foot in the first place, you might ask? Here’s the story, in her own words:

Let's just say it was an "extreme karaoke" accident— unfortunately, it happened before I actually got the mic. I slipped down a flight of stairs shortly after we arrived at Sing Sing (on Avenue A), but since I had been so excited about singing my usual songs and I didn't want to ruin anyone else's night, I insisted on staying.

I spent the next three hours belting out such classics as "Tainted Love," "Promises, Promises," and various Smiths/Morrissey hits while crying between songs. It was the most painful thing I have ever experienced, but I was also wasted, so it didn't occur to me that my friends were right when they said I should go to the emergency room. Plus, I don't have health insurance and didn't want to get stuck with a big bill. But I seriously couldn't fucking walk—or put any pressure on my foot, or even touch it for that matter. My friend had to piggyback me to the bathroom and back, up the stairs to a taxi when we left, and into my house when we got home.

I stayed in bed for four days (during the gorgeous Labor Day weekend), alternately wrapping my foot in an ace bandage and icing it or soaking it in warm Epsom salt baths. The first day, i was so mortified to be helpless, and i didn't want anyone to have to help me to the bathroom, so I got on the floor on my back and pushed myself to the bathroom using my good foot. Then I started using a chair as a crutch/walker. It was pathetic but kinda funny— then it got old real fast.

I hobbled to a BBQ a few days later using a crutch my dad brought over, and some annoying hipster called me a wimp when he saw my foot. He assured me it was a sprain and said it happened to him all the time, and he walked on it with no problem. I'd like to say F.U. to that dude -- turns out my ankle is broken. I found out last week when I finally decided to go to a doctor. So it turns out the worst is over, i actually re-set the bone myself by walking on it when i shouldn't have, and the air cast a friend got for me a couple of weeks ago is the same thing (or better) than what they would have given me at the hospital, so they said i could keep it on instead of getting a heavy plaster cast. I have to wear it for a couple more weeks. I hope it's not longer than that because I'm seriously bored and bummed— I can't ride my bike or exercise— it sucks!!!

There's more to the story, but I feel like I've bombarded you with info already!