The Wonder Shoe

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Forget about Wonder Bras, not that I have ever needed one but bring on the Wonder Shoe!

 

The crutches weren’t really helping but the wonder drugs definitely were, although I still couldn’t put my foot on the ground and the crutches were too difficult to use in the apartment.

 

 

My crawling, cushion system seemed to do the trick, although try carrying a cup of hot tea on all fours. It is challenging but doable. Move the cushion, crawl, move the cup and on you go. Scooting along the bed or the sofa on my bum also gave me good mileage.

 

Julien was taking a tour group around Versailles but he promised the minute he finished and made his way back to Paris, he would go straight to the pharmacie and pick up my Wonder Shoe.

If something goes wrong, I am grounded.  Today is New Year’s Eve and everything will be closed tomorrow.

 

Not that I felt like venturing out. I was too frazzled and my lack of mobility had me feeling down in the dumps.

Jim Haynes was having a New Years Eve party at his place tonight and then everyone would catch the free bus, they are free on New Years Eve and nosey on over to the Swan Bar later in Montparnasse, to bring in the new year.

I had to let Jim know that I wouldn’t be able to make it.  Why on earth did you go and break your toe he asks me, oh because I had nothing to blog about I joked!

 

I wasn’t too bothered, everyone was concerned that I wouldn’t have a nice night at home alone but I couldn’t possibly catch the metro and walk to Jim’s, it was all too hard and I wasn’t feeling that flash.

Julien came over as promised with a tub of lollies and my wonder shoe before heading out for his own celebrations after a long day. What an angel he is.

I tried on the shoe, the drugs had kicked in and hey ho!  I did a little boogie on the spot and joked that I could go out dancing. I think Julien was happy to see me a bit more upbeat.

Thanks to Julien’s generosity, I was mobile and the wonder shoe, really did do wonders. He was my life saver.

I finally had a well needed shower and I don’t know if it was the euphoria brought on by the wonder shoe or the wonder drugs or maybe a combination of both and the hot shower but I made a snap decision that I would go to the party after all.

Hang the expense, I will catch a cab, anything is going to be cheaper than an ambulance.  I will leave early, before everyone heads off to the bar. Getting home would be problematic, trying to find a taxi after 12.

It’s a plan Stan, a couple of quick phones calls, threw on my party dress, even went all out and put on some make-up, kind of disguised the wonder shoe and hobbled down to my chariot.

Misjudging how long it would take to get a cab and get out to Jim’s, luckily had me arriving a little too early but ensured I got a seat on the sofa.

There was a nice crowd, even the New Yorker came along for her first dinner at Jim’s and was elated that I had made the effort to join in on the festivities.

Met a nice Aussie couple, one of them named Adèle, what is there not to like about that, with a name like that, she would have to be a nice person!

 

My ‘call a friend’, buddy, better known as JD was regularly checking up on me to track my progress and ensure that I had everything I needed and a few of the regulars were there too, all in good spirits concerned about my ordeal and got a good laugh about my Saint Antoine Hospital experience.

 

 

I couldn’t help but notice that everyone was stepping out in their new wonder-ful Parisian shoes but hey!

I had one new Parisian shoe too, just not as glamorous as some I noticed on the night!

 

Foie Gras was on the menu and salmon for mains.  The New Yorker raved about the dessert and the cheese platter went down a treat.

Chatting to a nice English couple on their honeymoon, I felt a little whoozy, a bit faint and decided to park myself on the bench next to Chloé and Marla.  (That’s Chloé sporting the red jumper).

It passed but it was time to go home.

 

What happened next, scared the living daylights out of me.  A bucket by my side was needed and used.  I took my pain killer and decided to go to bed around midnight.

I was so incredibly tired, which considering the past couple of days no wonder and I think the pain killer had kicked in.

In seconds, I was at the gorgeous moment between consciousness and sleep and bang – I was sitting up right, drawing in a huge intake of breath!

Had I stopped breathing.  I tried again, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.  There it goes again. On my fifth attempt to sleep, I thought perhaps I should google the side effects of the opiate I was taking.

Respiratory failure, was listed along with a string of serious side effects but I had just taken a 12 hour dose. Terrified, I made myself busy and did everything I possibly could to stay awake and I did, all night.

Finding a 24 hour pharmacy phone number, confirmed my suspicions, arrêt – stop he tells me.

Five people, I spoke to at the hospital before I could find someone who spoke a little bit of English, no, he says there is no correlation between respiratory failure and the drug.  Hang on, it is on the drug companies brochure I tell the doctor.  No he says and hangs up.

Terrific, if I want a new prescription I have to play the waiting game again or go to the American Hospital outside of Paris and pay 200 euros for a prescription.

Terrific or incredible as the bearded man at the hospital would say.

 

I should have stayed at Jim’s and washed the dishes, that would have helped keep me awake.

 

Happy New Year or Bonne Année, as they say in French!

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