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Isabel Trent



Aug 18, 05 - 12:32 PM
A Recent Letter

This morning I foiled a rather clever credit card scam, and ate an apple.

This afternoon I happened to be dancing about to a nice tarantella, and I did an impulsive high kick and came down wrong and then began the pain! I didn't think anything was broken, but it was quite unpleasant, and would have been more so had my fall not been cushioned by a large inflatable whale left over from a friend's birthday.

I experienced the most unusual burst of capability and clear thinking, and somehow or other hauled myself from the study to the kitchen and over to the Frigidaire, where I obtained frozen beans (there wasn't any ice) to apply to the affected area. The chocolate raspberry truffle ice-cream was also within my reach, so I had some of that to tide me over till a chum of mine who was expected shortly arrived and got down the ibuprofen from a shelf that never seemed especially high before.

Off to the hospital. Everyone there was very nice to me, and more competent than hospital-people in New Zealand -- further evidence that the rot hasn't gone quite as far in this part of the world. I soon learned I had *three* broken bones in my foot, two bona fide breaks and a hairline fracture, not to mention a popped blood vessel and some rather damaged tendons. But last time I wrecked my foot (the same one!) falling down the steps of parliament, I only broke one bone, so clearly I'm moving up in the world.

The nice podiatrist-chappie put a fibreglass cast on my foot. Now, the way this is generally done, for those who don't know, is that one sits on the edge of a bed with one's legs hanging over and the chap gradually pushes a thingummy under one's foot to adjust it to the proper ninety degree angle. So far so good. But my foot somehow moved twenty degrees off while the cast was being put on, and the chap had to take it off and start again.

He'd barely got started when I felt faint and had to lie down for quarter of an hour. Then I sat up again, and he worked as quickly as he could and *almost* managed to get the second cast on before I felt ill again. I bravely kept sitting as long as I could, and then he held my leg up in the air, and the cast had just long enough to dry properly before he realised that the angle was right, but the foot itself was crooked...

All of a sudden I was playing host to a podiatrists' convention. Three young doctors, two of whom I suspect of being handsome... a bottle blonde would have been in heaven. One of them used to be in the navy. I had him holding up my leg and another chap wrapping the cast and the third supplying the second with the necessary bandages and keeping a close eye on the angle. I felt so terribly taken-care-of, particularly with my chum standing nearby and fetching cold cloths for my forehead and holding water to my lips.

The whole thing took hours and hours, but -- this is the shocking part -- I didn't cry at all. Not once. I suspect it had something to do with the fact that I'd been crying over a very moving book all afternoon and I had no tears left to shed for myself!

Now all I have to do is lie still with my foot in the air for six weeks and I'll be right as rain. Oh, dear, what a lot of Takarazuka I'm going to need...
Flora Sutton



Aug 18th, 2005 - 8:27 PM
Re: A Recent Letter

Dear Miss Isabel Trent:

How very distressing and painful. I'm thankful that the team of podiatrists finally got it right!

Happy recovery.
Princess Mushroom



Aug 19th, 2005 - 12:30 AM
Re: A Recent Letter

Dear Cousin Isabel has at least been immortalised for her - very great and rather dreadful - pains. She has become the subject of a Much Binding Song.

Much Binding Songs are a tradition in the District of Avendale, and Cousin Isabel, as a member of the Extended District is eligible for one. Of course one has to do something notable enough to be immortalised in song. Now she has certainly done it!

It is much better if you know the Much Binding Tune, which comes from the Kadorian B.B.C. Wireless programme Much Binding in the Marsh. Do hear an episode if you get the chance.

But in any case, here is the song:

There's much binding in the marsh!
You know my lovely cousin from Atlanta?
There's much binding in the marsh!
She had a little Terpsichoric canter.
She made the highest kick you've seen with more than perfect grace;
If it wasn't for the puff-up whale she'd landed on her face:
But she's still just as athletic - now she's won the wheelchair race.
There's much binding in the marsh!
Suzanna



Aug 19th, 2005 - 6:02 PM
Re: A Recent Letter

Yes, Miss Isabel, you are a heroette! Pollyanna-like, we can be glad that your fingers did not break, so you were able to write your adventures for us to read. And who knows, maybe Providence has laid you up, so you can dash off a couple of novels while reclining on your couch. I hope this doesn't sound flippant, as I am truly sorry for your plight, but am searching for a silver lining!
Isabel Trent



Aug 19th, 2005 - 6:11 PM
Re: A Recent Letter

Ah, Suzanna, you are nearer the truth than you know. Has my darling cousin been telling tales?

Thank you for your kind wishes -- and you too, Miss Sutton. As it happens, the lining isn't silver. It's half bright red, half pale blue, as those are the colours of the two new hats I received in the post today! I am already trying to raise the blunt for another one, a dark blue Art Neo/Regency riding hat with a half-veil and lots of feathers at the back. My head is far better dressed than my foot, au mome. Better feathers than fibreglass!




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