They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (refering to horses with broken legs)

I’m not ready to make plans for the upcoming holidays.  I broke my left leg, (fibula, the small bone on left side) on November 5, 2012 and I’m in a cast to the knee.  I have another appointment with the orthopedic doctor in two weeks.  As of today, I am lucky to make it from the computer to the kitchen to the bathroom and back.

So, I am having a difficult time getting excited about holiday travel.  Maybe I’ll be walking by then — but I really can’t plan that far ahead.  I’m excited that someone is willing to pick up my sorry self and take me to the club this afternoon to play bridge.

I love this photo on the outside of the box my cast protector came in.  I don’t think it represents the sort of individual who would buy this product. Seriously, if I looked this happy I’d be on my way to Bermuda or the Bahamas! (Especially if I looked like she does.)  But this protector has at least given me a chance to take a shower.

At least I don’t live in the early pioneer days. All they could do was to find a couple of sticks, push the bones together as best they could and then tie some rags around the whole thing to keep the bones in place until they hopefully healed back together.

Bonesetting as a profession was often left to woman.

One famous bonesetter was Sarah Mapp, or “Crazy Sally” as she was often called.

Sarah “Sally” Mapp

Sarah Mapp was born around 1706, daughter to a bonesetter, and took up her father’s trade. In 18th Century England bonesetters were medical practitioners found in many towns. They reset dislocated hips and shoulders, re-broke and set poorly mended fractures, and sometimes effected various other kinds of cures through bone manipulation, anticipating chiropractic. Resetting of dislocated limbs required a great deal of strength and in many towns the job was given over to the strongest man, usually the blacksmith. Sarah was very strong. She was also cross-eyed, very fat, and “hideously ugly” from contemporary reports. Well aware of her appearance, Sarah capitalized on it, calling herself Crazy Sally or Crosseyed Sally in her public reports.

But then, if I lived in England during those times, I could hitch a ride over to the town of Bath to partake in the healing hot waters at the spas.

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