Much ado about an ankle

I had an ankle surgery earlier in September. An old sports injury aggravated and it required me to get it fixed as soon as possible. The stupid pain killers shut off my brain and I could get nothing done apart from turning left to right on bed. Eventually I also could turn right to left.

Turns out there are 4 titanium screws in my foot. Once the reality of that fact sunk in, the first thing I thought of was Wolverine. But then it does not make me any where as cool as him. I cannot extract-n-retract my screws like Wolverine does with his claws. And even if I did, what would I do with them? Hang pictures? And of course, I am not even venturing into the thought of which screwdriver I would need to screw them back in. You never find one when you need one.

Surprisingly, when I told about these screws to people, the most common first response I got from them was – “How would you ever clear the metal detector in the airport?” Of all the questions to ask, that was the first. I wouldn’t blame anyone. I got that question in my head too.

Unfortunately I have much bigger problems at the airport to deal with, especially in the US/Europe. The image of the checklist here will explain it all. At least I did not set off the metal detector before. Now I have to deal with that too. Security is going to have a Mardi Gras tasering me all the time, and with me being tall, there’s so so much of me to taser around. I am a walking taser fest for them.

The plus side of this surgery has been that I have had a month off from work (I had no choice actually). I have had the time to reflect upon …er… never mind. Several things upset me. My cast was cut for inspection recently and I saw that the surgery has left a pretty big scar on my ankle. Not that I have/want/need Aishwarya Rai like ankles, but I could see a scar on my foot. I hate scars. They remind people of things. My friends have tried hard to cheer me up. This is the gist of the conversation that happened with a friend when I told him of my deep stirring feelings about the scar.

“Dude, this is a great opportunity. Chicks dig scars!”
“Yeah, but to show this scar I really have to flash my ankle around. And that’s not normal. And it’s not eccentric either!”

Now I could keep flashing my ankle around, but I have never actually heard the the expression “Did you see the ankles on that guy? They are HAWT!” (Girls, please back me up here.) I do realize that scars make great first impressions. But I don’t see a reason to show my ankle ever, in a first meeting. It is just impossible for my ankle to come up in an appropriate way unless I am having a conversation with my doctor. Of course, she wouldn’t dig the very same scar she caused.

Another friend told me that my market value has increased. He literally meant it, because titanium is expensive. It was his attempt at cheering me up. Well, he tried. Can’t blame a guy for trying. Another very dear friend of mine has a naturally seductive voice and she (effortlessly and unknowingly) makes the word “langda” sound very very very sexy. Thank you for that. Meanwhile, my friends have received strict instructions now that they are not supposed to ask me (any more) “Tera screw dheela hai kya?” It’s personal. Nor are they supposed to say that they are screwed. That too is personal. (See footnote for translations)

[Footnote for translations]
1. Tera screw dheela hai kya?
Literally speaking, this means “Are your screws loose?”
Metaphorically speaking, this means “Have you lost it?”
2. “Langda” means lame person.