Well, my femur friends... we have come full circle. A year of blogs and a year of recovery under my belt. I've still clearly got a way to go now my leg has decided to give me new painful sensations on the daily, as I now have some not-so-lovely hamstring and nerve issues, but each day I live in hope that maybe one day I won't have pain in my leg. I'll just wake up one morning and it'll be back to normal, instead of feeling like someone else’s limb has been badly welded onto mine. With limited movement and a constant ache. But at the same time, feeling immense gratitude that I have a leg that works, walks and doesn't limp!
No one can see our feelings, which is both good and bad, so I think I pass is relatively normal until I'm required to do certain dance moves or clean my alloys.
I was considering closing the blog now as it's been a year, and it's not so much about my recovery anymore. It's more about my hormone journey, osteoporosis, navigating life and gigs, all while being made of glass. That was until Wix whipped £230 out of my account for another year’s hosting, so it looks like you're stuck with me! Plus, the amount of people who came up to me at Brands Hatch the other weekend to say how much they enjoy reading it or how it's helped them. They’re the reason I do it. It's for them, it's for you, it's for all of us.
I've packed in a lot since we last spoke. The biggest milestone being my femur-versary, but before I get into that (and yes, I did cry!) I need to tell you about ANOTHER freaky scenario I found myself in while on my walk…
It was the day after I'd had my first acupuncture appointment and had been pricked with more needles than I cared to count. Like any kind of needle or injections, I'd rather not look at them or watch them go in, and in this case, I certainly wasn't going to count them! But I trusted it was doing me good and I fixed my eyes on the wonderful testimonials that adorned the walls of the treatment room. The therapist was so calming and knowledgeable and resembled my mum in many ways. I don't know whether that's what set me off crying or the multiple needles in my ear, leg and foot. It's better to cry in a treatment room than sat at a traffic light on the way home, looking more unstable than the bent bollard someone clearly ran into.
I felt sore but OK the following day which is why I ventured out for one of my favourite field walks. The last thing I expected to come across was a poor woman lay on the ground with a broken leg!
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON and is the universe trying to tell me something?!! What's with all these fellow fractured females I keep meeting on my walks? Should I be scared? Is it going to be me next? There were two separate dog walkers who'd ran to her aid. One was on the phone to an ambulance and the other was holding back the lady’s enormous dog, who understandably was going mental as he no doubt sensed his master's pain, as she lay on the floor with her leg bent like a banana. There was nothing I could do to help physically. I wasn't Doctor Mark with the sweets and the even sweeter gas and air! I wasn't medically trained and spent all the previous day crying at having very fine needles pricked into me, so I felt pretty helpless, as I crouched down as low as I could on my bad leg. When we were told the ambulance would take at least AN HOUR (seriously, what kind of sick, overstretched NHS world are we living in?) all I could attempt to do was distracted her from the pain. To tell her stories, keep talking and keep her awake. I happened to have my shorts on so she saw my scar and opened the Pandora's box of questions beginning with “What happened to your leg?”
I began telling her the whole fabulous femur story, including all the recent discoveries about my dormant ovaries, broken pituitary gland, HRT and years of absent periods. The gentleman holding her dog started looking in every direction but mine as I overshared about my womb lining and non-existent menstrual cycle. We later learned the dog wasn't even hers! She was kindly dog sitting for a friend, before flying back to Prague tomorrow.
“This is so frustrating!” She cried.
“I know but... maybe you weren't meant to get on that plane?”
I desperately tried to offer a helpful comment, but then my head fell off when she told me she broke her femur back in 2022 and had only just had her metal work removed in April this year! And now here she is on the ground, having broken the same leg again! Thanks to Ruben lunging for another dog and pulling her over, to the sound of an almighty snap! I know everybody's different, but they told me I’d be keeping my metal work in for life, especially due to my osteoporosis as it could re-fracture if they remove it. I couldn't help but wish she'd kept hers in too. And more to the point- where the fuck was this ambulance?!
After an eternity of torture hearing sirens in the distance, only for them to fade away as they rescued someone else, eventually we saw blue flashing lights heading down the country lane. Praise be! But then to our horror they started moving away, blinking above the bramble bushes as they started reversing. They couldn't see us! Shit. We were in the sunken dip in the field after all.
“Quick!” said the man holding Ruben. “Run after them and tell them we're down here!”
Me? Run? I'll try... Now’s your moment Sophie! This is an emergency and now YOU need to be the one to help someone with a broken leg! So, I began the world's most tentative, odd looking little run ever, that resembled something between a power walk and a jog, like I was doing an egg and spoon race.
“Hey ambulance people!” I yelled, waving my arms, “we're over here!” To mine and my femur’s relief, they stopped reversing, got out, then painfully slowly started trundling down the path with a stretcher, with NO sense of urgency whatsoever. Are they taking the piss?
“Hurry guys, her legs like a banana and she's had no pain relief at all!” I shrieked. They just looked at me, highly unimpressed.
It had been well over an hour and a half at this point. Can you imagine if they'd left me on the pit wall for that long? I could have died from internal bleeding! Once again, I was so grateful to have the Toca medical team around me, all the marshals and my incredible BMW teammates and friends at the very moment of my break. Thank God mine happened at Brands Hatch and not in a field! I ran back (literally) to say bye to my femur friend and tell her everything was going to be just fine, and to ask for a Dexa scan! I got myself my favourite Indian takeaway on the way home as a comfort, but my head was still spinning with it all as I chowed down my chana masala chickpeas. The whole freaky ordeal left me with a funny feeling. One I'm still trying to make sense of even now. Should I be scared? What's the meaning behind this? Is my purpose in life now to be the ‘Femur fairy’ and bring light and hope to those in similar distressing situations? Or is it simply telling me to not get a big dog and continue to watch my step? I'm happy to report lightning did not strike twice at the BTCC final at Brands Hatch. I stayed well away from the pit wall as I am technically banned
from climbing it… This took monumental willpower seen as our very own Jake Hill won the championship! But I’m just grateful I was there to see it this time. Instead of being whisked off in an ambulance while the winner’s pyrotechnics were going off. No broken leg and BTC champions- it was a better day all round! I just hope the same can be said when I meet with yet another Endocrinologist this week. Maybe this one will know what to do with me; Cheshire's own ‘Femur fairy’.
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