In the morning, we got up early. After packing and breakfast, we were ready to go. With my backpack on, I closed the door. My daughter was halfway down the street when I felt down.
At first, I didn’t know what had happened. Two women came standing above me, asking me if they had to call an ambulance. My daughter was in shock and came back as she realized what had happened. The two women helped me get up, but that didn’t work. They undid me from my backpack and tried to get my leg out from under my body. After they freed my foot, they took off my shoe and sock. My ankle had swollen already.
Luckily a guy came out the front door, so they put us in the hallway with our luggage. I called the man who rented us the apartment. He came and took us to the hospital.
Before we went to the hospital, he made sure we could spend the night somewhere else. He was fully booked, and we needed a place. So he called a friend. They put our luggage in the new apartment, so we didn’t have to bring all our stuff to the hospital.
In the hospital, he helped me out because he spoke Chech. He made sure I got the right documents and would get the right help. After the X-rays, I met the doctor. Torn ankle bands on both sides of one ankle… so he prescribed me a plaster cast. And blood thinners because I wouldn’t be as mobile as before and had earlier experiences with thromboses in that leg.
So with gypsum, crutches, and injections, I left the hospital. Taken home to our new apartment by the friendly owner of our former apartment.
