Baby needs a new pair of shoes

So I fell down the stairs.

Again.

Same stairs.

And remember how last time I was all self-righteous after? Like how dare someone be so irresponsible... I would have never fallen otherwise...

Turns out, not so much.

On Friday afternoon, the kids and I were running our comforter down to the cleaners next to our building (there's no way that thing will fit in our hobbit dryer), and we saw the doorman was washing the front stairs again. 

"Careful, ma'dam. Water!" he warned me.

"Careful Momma..." my kids cautioned..

"I got this" my pride said.

I carefully walked down the first two steps, holding the comforter, with my children on either side of me.

The third step was my demise.

My sandal slipped and my foot flew beneath me.

The doorman helped me up, and I saw that my shin was all bloody. My big toe hurt too.

I hobbled over to the cleaners to drop off the comforter, and the kids and I went back upstairs.

I was SO ANGRY again.

This time totally and completely at myself.

I mean, who falls down the same set of stairs TWICE IN TEN DAYS?!?! 

Me, apparently.

Oy.

David and I had an event with friends at the British Embassy that evening, so I cleaned up my leg and finished getting ready. 

An hour later, we set out to walk the few blocks to our friends house, where we'd be meeting up and leaving L&A with their kids and their fabulous babysitter.

A few steps into the walk and I told David "my toe REALLY hurts...could I have broken it?!?"

We both agreed that would be crazy.

We went about our evening, and as long as I walked only on my heal of my right foot, I navigated things just fine.

We got home late that night, and I took off my sock to find this:

Further inspection proved I could not bend it at all, and it hurt REALLY FREAKING BAD when I applied pressure as I walked.

The next morning I surveyed myself and found the following:

A scraped up shin...

A bruised pinky toe...

And a 360degree black and blue big toe...

 I took a cab to the International Clinic. 

Saw a doc, who declared it broken and ordered an xray to confirm.

Xray confirms my big toe is fractured.

Not cool, man. Not cool.

Do you know what they do for a fractured toe?

Nothing.

Nada.

Jack.

Zero.

Well, I suppose that's not entirely true.

It's just that you don't cast a toe, and they don't do pain meds in Kuwait.

So, they gave me these:

600mg Ibuprofen and some topical pain get.

And the doctor told me to pick up a shoe/boot on my way out and do my best to stay off my foot for 4-6 weeks.

I hobbled to the pharmacy to pick up the boot, which they did not have in stock. The pharmacist looked at my toe and said "ma'dam, very bad. You must try and stay off this as much as possible!"

"I will, but it won't be easy...I have two young children..."

"You must have your maid take care of them!" she declared

"Yeah...we don't have a maid..."

"You must hire help! This is a bad injury!" she insisted.

"We'll see...so anyways, where do I get the boot I need?"

You'll love this part...

"Right down the street ma'dam. Just walk one block south and go to the bottom floor of (insert name here) building, and they sell medical supplies"

Yes, I'll walk there on the foot I'm supposed to stay off of.

So I hobble out the door and down the street, very slowly. I make it to the building and tell the doorman I need the medical supply place on the bottom floor.

"They are closed today ma'dam, you need to go to the International Clinic...." he informs me.

Because KUWAIT.

I hobble outside, and hail a cab to take me to the hospital I had my surgery at.

I hobble inside the pharmacy there and ask for a boot for a broken toe. The pharmacist appears confused, so I show him my toe.

He walks behind a few shelves, returns, and hands me this:

  I actually started laughing.

I didn't mean to be rude - really, I didn't - it was just downright hilarious to me at this point.

"Um, so it's my toe that's broken and needs support...these appear to support the ankle and circulation and such, but neglect to provide a surface for the toe..."

Now he gets what I'm saying.

"We do not have ma'dam, please try (names different pharmacy) down the street" he says.

Sure.

I hobble down the street and into the fourth stop I've now made to pick up this boot.

Because KUWAIT.

Luckily, this place does in fact as the boot I need, and bonus! It's advertised as "aesthetically pleasing" ;)

So now I get to hobble around town in this bad boy for the next 4-6 weeks.

Oh yes, I'm bringing sexy back.


At least it'll be off before it gets super hot here!
And again, better me than the kids. Both times I slipped on those stairs, the kids were right next to me.
Also, David has demanded I get rid of my beloved Teva sandals, which I've loved and worn for so long that they have completely lost any traction they once had, and are now just a smooth slippery surface, and were what I was wearing both times I fell.
Don't tell him I said this, but I *think* he might be right.

Never a dull moment here in Kuwait, folks. 
If we're friends on Facebook, you'll note my new hashtag when announcing my latest injury is #kuwaithateskendra ;)
Because it's sure starting to feel like it!! 
*BUT* I am learning that I'm much, much tougher than I once thought I was, and that's something I hope to carry with me for many years to come.