I never met the guy who hit me. Apparently, the guy’s younger brother showed up at our apartment; Lesley answered the door, and furious about what had happened to me, told him to scoot. Never saw the guy, his brother or his friends again.
Without going into too much detail, yes, I could squat to use the Indian squatter, and yes, it was not easy and pretty darn uncomfortable. ☺
Jaishree in particular was very adamant about ensuring that I was as properly cared for as possible, so between Laxmi and Shailendra, I had a taxi ready to pick me up every morning for work and drop me back home every afternoon. Laxmi took me to appointment to appointment and helped me locate some solid crutches since my first ones were poop (and now even my PT in the US is impressed).
The Deshpandes called and emailed me multiple times to ensure I was doing okay and offered several times to fly me home early if I felt that were the best course of action. At first it didn’t seem necessary, but after a long deliberation, I finally caved (and now I’m glad I did).
Once home, getting my cast off was an ordeal, and when I finally saw a doctor here in Cincinnati, he was NOT impressed. Of course, neither was I – my muscle on the left leg had dwindled down to next to nothing, making even walking an impossibility. If Kraemer hadn’t prepared me for what I was going to see, I might have cried. Picking up my leg and watching the skin slide off was so drastic that it was almost comical – almost.
Now several weeks into PT, I’ve graduated to no leg brace and no crutches for easy terrain (i.e. my living room), but I’m still working on those steps…
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