How Quickly Things Can Change
Remember when I shared this caption 6 days ago?
” It’s only Tuesday. And already, this week has been one of the most insane yet.
I wasn’t lying.
And when I think back, it wasn’t just the Monday and Tuesday that had been good, but the full 7-days prior to that.
The Tuesday before, my best friend had landed in Auckland city after years of studying abroad. We spent a few days together doing what we do best – hashing out our life direction, and seeking out the best caffeine-related haunts (insert city here) has to offer.
I then had the most beautiful weekend out of Auckland city in Matapouri, a place that made me proud to be a New Zealander. Sun, friends, tunes, ciders, BBQ’s, card games, gymnastics, piggy-in-the-middle, boogie-boarding, ocean swims.. It was the best set up for a productive week.
Last Monday morning, I woke up fresh. Excited. Ready to roll. All these emotions pre-trim-flat-white..
I strutted into Pandora that morning and smashed out a sh*t tonne of work.
I left a little early because I’d been booked to speak that night at an event called ‘North Shore Professionals’. I hadn’t even had the chance to share that epic piece of information with you, because I had only been asked to do it the Thursday prior – so as you can imagine, all my spare moments in the days following were spent deep in preparation mode.
I’d been booked to do that talk off the back of the talk I did a couple of weeks earlier, only this time the topic had changed (see why I had to be deep in preparation mode even more?!). I was to discuss my top three fashion tips for enhancing a personal brand in 2017. A friend who is actually a stylist had been unable to speak on that date, so she kindly recommended me to the organizer, and the rest is history.
Honestly, it was the best talk I’ve ever done. I had so much fun – a phrase you don’t often associate with public speaking! I found the sweet spot of being well prepared, but still open enough to just go with the flow, and as a result I didn’t even consult my notes once. I spoke alongside the one and only Robett Hollis which was an honour in itself, and judging from the amount of business cards I came home with (not to mention the bottle of wine), the event proved a great success.
Come Tuesday, and it was like being employed to talk about fashion/style opened up a can of trendy worms.
I was featured in a Guardian article (yes, THE GUARDIAN) entitled ‘An Insider’s Guide to Auckland: a Multicultural Melting Pot by the Sea‘. In what capacity did I feature? Fashun, darling. Do you reckon they know this outfit only cost me seventeen bucks..?
So yes. In terms of the hustle, the week was off to a pretty boss start.
On Wednesday, I had two key meetings set up in the morning, did a half day of work in the afternoon and put my exercise gear on at about 5pm in preparation for a netball game that evening.
And here’s where it gets interesting! And also where I switch to present tense..
I turn up to the netball courts feeling pretty darn excited. I haven’t played netball for a few years and it’s game one of the season.
I get on court, and immediately, it’s clear that this is gonna be a tight game. Neither team came to lose! Three quarters in, and sure enough, there are only two points in it.
Enter the fourth quarter, and things seem to step up a notch. I swear I haven’t sweated this much since the air conditioning broke while travelling on a bus through central Thailand, but can’t slow down now – not long to go after all!
5 minutes in to the last quarter, and I get into a bit of a tussle with a player from the opposite team. We both end up on the ground. As I go to stand up in sprinters stance, I feel a weight land on the back of my left calf muscle, and at the same time.. I hear a pop.
This isn’t good.
I inherently know that I shouldn’t get up, so stay on all fours for a few moments to gather my thoughts. Eventually I heave myself up on one leg, test my weight on the other, and.. Bugger.
My leg gives out immediately.
This has to be worse than a sprain. Why can I not support any weight on my leg. What the hell is happening here.
The game ends, and my team wins, but I’m finding it hard to care. My team mates all come off court, and start to console me. You know when people start asking if you’re ok and you’re not so sure any more? I’m trying my best to stay sure that I am ok. There’s no way I’m gonna cry. I’m gonna be fine. This is probably nothing.
A team mate kindly drops me at my car, and stupidly I neglect to tell them that I drive a manual. Problematic, seeing as I literally cannot move my foot in any direction.
I sit there for a bit wondering if I should Uber or call a friend, but I decide not to hassle anybody. I pull my seat in as close as it can go, lift my leg onto the clutch and find a sweet spot where I can use my arm to push my knee down and create force through my foot in order to change gears effectively.
Don’t share this article with any cops.
Biting down on my hoody, I set off. The pain is pretty excruciating, but I employ a mind over matter technique, and make it safely back to my flat. Once there, I ask a flatmate if she can take me to the after hours and, possibly due to my pale face, she drops everything and does so without question. I check in, get told they are gonna close at 8 (it’s 7) but if they can see me before then, they will. I fill out a form, sit down and wait.
About 20 minutes later, a feeling worse than pain starts to creep in. My leg starts to go numb. And I think I could vomit.
I ask the woman at reception if this is normal. She says, no, not really. So I finally do something sensible, book an uber and head to the hospital.
Luckily, the ED isn’t too busy, and after filling out more forms and hopping down a few corridors, I get seen to within 45 minutes.
The nurse tests my reflexes and muscle movement, of which there is little to none.
Despite the pain, I’m still in ‘I’m fine’ mode, and don’t want to check out of that any time soon.
But then, she breaks the news.
Snapped achilles. Ruptured tendons. 8 weeks in a cast. No movement. No weight. 2 crutches. And at least 3 months rehabilitation.
So that’s that.
This week, I was going to tell you I was heading to R&V for New Years to work for Pandora and interview artists behind the scenes, but that can no longer happen. I was going to tell you that I’ll be road tripping down to Wellington to spend Christmas with the fam, but I can no longer drive. I was going to ask you to help me name the incredible bike I just purchased to cycle to work, but that will have to wait.
And.. I guess.. All of that’s ok. I’m still in ‘I’m fine’ mode. And when it comes down to it? That’s a mode I should endeavour to stay in. Because it’s true. Fundamentally, although it sucks a little, I am fine.
People keep saying that maybe this is a sign that I need to slow down. Take a break. Chill. Work out my next move.
And although I find that sort of thing hard to admit to, hard to get on board with, I’m starting to think that maybe they are right. Maybe this is the only way the universe can force me to do what I need to do. Because in the last few days, as I’ve been navigating the world at a far slower pace than usual, I’ve noticed a few things about myself.
How much I move around. How much pressure I put on myself to achieve x amount of things in a day. And how little I ask for help.
And maybe these are the things I need to work on.
So, while summer is going to be a little sad without being able to feel the sting of an ocean swim early on a summer’s morning, I’m just gonna have to make the most of this forced downtime.
Like anything, it’s an opportunity. To relax. To think. To read. To plan. To refocus. To reflect on what’s important. To work out what I can do in this situation, rather than what I can’t.
If this year has taught me anything, it’s that the best things can come out of things we initially perceive to be negative. So I’ma stick with that. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing.
With all of that said, I’d like to raise a toast to having the best summer holiday evaaah! Goodness knows we’ve all earned a break. And goodness knows that whatever 2017 has in store for us – at the end of the day – it’s no doubt gonna be epic.
Game on, Hustlers.