“Six to eight weeks and you’ll be fine; I imagine you’ll even be back running in eight” thanks Mr Orthopaedic surgeon man for giving me this false hope. I’m coming up to eight weeks of doing everything I was told; rest (solidly for 5 weeks), ice, elevation, high protein and calcium diet, eat healthily, take supplements, some low impact swimming and cycling in later weeks, private physio sessions….everything. And today, a return trip to Trauma Clinic confirmed my worst fears…no, wait, it didn’t confirm my worst fears because actually I was confident I had been doing everything right, this wasn’t even a fear. Yes, I had pain, but I was told that would be normal for possibly up to 12 weeks. However, no one had prepared me for the news that my fracture hadn’t looked to have healed at all. And now the promised eight weeks, just had an extra six added to it. Who knew I could spontaneously burst into tears? Apparently I can, and did so, whilst the Dr was showing me the X-ray. Not that I cared about that. I cried my way through the walk out and to the bus stop. But I cared deeply about the state my foot is in. Will this ever get better? Will I ever have a normal foot again? Will I ever walk properly, let alone run? Oh man. This is tough.