Breaking Bad, Bad, Bad

    I’ve been in the small East Texas town where my husband and I will make our new home for about two weeks now. His new job took him here, and despite a down economy, I was able to find a brand new teaching position! I have been happily looking forward to new challenges in the world of 5th grade. Little did I know just how challenging it would be.
    Last Monday was the first day back for teachers. No matter which district you’re in, it seems like it always begins with hours of training. Despite my usual loathing of rears-in-seats-meetings, I was feeling pretty chipper. I had chatted with a fellow attendee as I sought to find my way in the mostly unfamiliar high school, discovering he was a very friendly school board member. Thank goodness I had mentioned how happy I was to be there!
    Doughnuts and coffee were being served in the hallway with convocation to follow in the auditorium. I snagged a bottle of water and followed the crowd through a door. Once on the other side, I found we were backstage. Continuing to walk, I finally spotted another doorway, and a glimpse of seats. Remembering that my principal said we would be gathering in the balcony, I looked up just as I hit the doorway. That’s pretty much the last thing I remember until I found myself sitting on the second row of the auditorium..
    What I had not seen due to the crowd around me and my failure to look down instead of up, was one little concrete step. Just about six inches worth of trouble. Apparently, my left foot had rolled off the edge, followed quickly by my right foot as I tried to stable myself. I had been on the floor until the gracious people in the room helped me to a very close seat. I had just face planted in front of nearly every co-worker I could have in the district. What an entrance!
    As I tried to figure out what to do, I looked down at my feet. The right ankle hurt, but didn’t look too bad. But oh my, the left ankle! I was wondering when someone had been able to implant a golf ball into my foot. You’d think I would have noticed that? Oddly, it didn’t hurt as much as the other foot did.
    About that time people were gathering around asking me if I was all right. I started to open my mouth to ask who put the ball in my foot when I realized I was about to hurl. So all I could do was nod my head. Now, I knew I was not all right, but explaining anything wasn’t going to happen right then. I did take notice of a large trash can by the stage and began to analyze whether or not I could stand up and fall across it if I did indeed begin to upchuck. Thankfully, I never had to find out.
    As the nausea cleared I started to look for my principal. I gingerly reached for my phone in my purse on the floor beside me, but dropped my glasses when I tried to get them too. As I squinted at my contacts list I tried to text my boss, but to no avail. Understand, I don’t know many people here. Remember, I’ve only been here two weeks. I had limited options on friends at my disposal and really, really didn’t want to embarrass myself any more to the strangers around me. Well, that didn’t last.
    I tried my teammate when I was able to find her number, but she had her phone muted for the meetings and her mailbox was full. I thought I had one other teacher’s phone number and dialed it, just in time to see my principal walk through the door! I hurriedly told the person on the phone line thanks, but I just found him, then yelled (quietly) for my boss to come over.
    He took one look and went to find the school nurse. She’s a really nice lady and I wish I could have met her under better circumstances. She told me I had to have my feet x-rayed. She asked if it was okay for her to drive me, using the school’s wheelchair to get me to her car. I said sure, BUT I told her I was utterly humiliated and wanted to wait until convocation was over and workshops had started so I could creep out unseen. She agreed, and I spent the next 45 minutes focusing on the problems I was going to have finishing my classroom and getting ready to teach next week. How was I going to get to the meetings if I couldn’t drive? Even if my DH dropped me off each day, how would I get around? What about my bulletin boards! What if my room doesn’t get made as CUTE as all the other rooms in the hall!?!
    Finally, the superintendent dismissed the audience to go to the workshops and I knew the nurse would be back for me soon. People were crowding all around, funneling out through the door in which I had made my grand entrance. I noticed a few others stumble on the step and LOTS of people calling out a warning to watch it. At least I wasn’t alone in my lack of grace.
    About then I heard, “‘Scuse me, pardon,” and a man pushed his way to me with a wheelchair. Lots of people stopped and stared. They must have been the ones who were still in the doughnut line when I plopped. I quickly explained to the man with the chair that we needed to wait until everyone had left before trying to get out. The nurse, my principal, and a couple of people who had helped me in the beginning stuck around to make sure I was going to be okay. So there were a lot of tall people surrounding me as I sat and waited. That was when the police showed up.
    There had been a brief greeting from the three nice officers during the general meeting, and as they waited for it to end, they noticed there was a problem down front. That would be me. They came down to help me into the chair, and since they were probably the ones in the best shape in the room, decided to take on the task of wheeling me to the car. So now, all the rest of the audience watched as three officers manhandled a strange woman with no shoes on into a chair and carted her out of the room. No rumors will get started from that, right?
    Off I went with my new nurse friend to the first round of doctors of the day. Now, how to tell my husband? I knew better than to call and tell him I had fallen and couldn’t get up. That was not going to work. He would’ve just laughed. I got him on the phone so he could hear I was fine, but that he needed to meet us at the emergency room.
    After a few x-rays and a boot and bandage fitting, he drove me “home.” (Home is a relative term for right now, but that’s another story.) This was the result:

A broken foot and two, not one, but TWO sprained ankles. We used a desk chair to get me to my room. I had a prescription for a wheelchair but didn’t have a clue where to go get one. It was really starting to dawn on me now just how hard this week was going to be.
    A couple of hours later I had a call from HR to go to a second set of doctors. Oh, did I not mention that this would be a worker’s comp type of thing? I know nothing about WC. But I do know it’s a lot of paperwork that started before I left the building. At least the head of HR is nice when a new hire manages to cripple herself ten minutes into a new job.
    At the second doctor visit they confirmed what the first doctors said: broken, sprain, sprain. And they gave me an even bigger boot. I can assure you that neither boot will be in the Manolo Blahnik collection this fall. Unless velcro becomes a fashion statement.
    Back home, the wonderful school nurse brought me the school wheelchair. One of my fellow teachers called to help and drove my car home so it didn’t have to stay at the high school parking lot. My principal, the HR lady, my teammate, and several other teachers I have not had the privilege of meeting yet also called to check on me. Most of them didn’t even laugh at my predicament.
    In a strange but true sidebar to the story, I received a phone call while waiting on the second set of x-rays to be read. It was a nearby school district I had applied to last spring, asking me if I had found a job or if I would still like to work for them. Briefly, very briefly, I wondered if my current district might want rid of me after the stellar opening day I had. But I remembered all the nice people I had met that day, all over the city. I left wonderful friends behind when we moved and that upset me a lot. I realized that I had found new friends here in this little town. I think I’m really going to like it here. Once I can walk, anyway. Besides, what is that song about wanting to be, “Where everybody knows your name?” I think everyone learned it pretty quick this week.

Addendum: Oh yeah, the phone call I hung up on when I found my principal? I received a phone call that evening from an old friend I’ve known since elementary school. I don’t see her often, but we have touched base a couple of times since high school graduation. She asked why I called her early that morning and hung up. Seems she has the same last name as the teacher I was trying to reach. It sure looked right when I hit that call button. I really should be tethered to my reading glasses.