Helpful Phrases for Patiently Communicating the Experience of Being on Crutches

By J. Ecker MAT ‘21

Um excuse me, the door isn’t going to open itself.

Yep, a week later and it’s still broken. Shocking, I know.

You’re right, Brenda, stubbing your toe IS almost the same thing.

Can you tell me more about your experience on crutches? I think it would really be worth my time.

Yeah no, three flights is a lot. You sorta just keep falling.

Oh, the surgery. Well, funny story. I actually ran into the surgeon at the bar the night before it.

He sits down next to me and goes, “Are you an appendix? Because I ought to take you out.” I guess doctors really do use pick-up lines like that.

I broke it at track practice pole vaulting. Oh no, I’m not on the team.

Thanks for crocheting me a “Krutch Kaddy,” Grandma. It sure has made getting my wallet stolen easier.

Hey, do you want to buy the rest of my oxy? Dude, please. I gotta pay for Hulu this month.

I know it’s a corny line… I know. But he was also kind of sweet?

Get those essential oils out of my face.

How AM I?

I got it stuck in a rotating door, obviously. Can you ask a stupider question next time?

They don’t glue casts to your skin. I need you to tell me you understand that.

I don’t think 57 is too old. It’s 2021. Literally everyone wants to bang a doctor.

Here, you can use my crutch as a bottle opener.

Some little kid on the bus wrote the N-word on my cast this morning, so not the best day I’ve ever had.

Got attacked by a swarm of bees, but just my leg. What do you think, Brenda?

When I woke up he was gone… but obviously he had work, so…

I don’t think he was ashamed. I mean, it would’ve been weird if we walked into the hospital together.

I was dancing with the Royal Moscow Ballet when I landed wrong. Putin said he could hear it crack from the first row.

Yes, “fibula” is a word. Read a fucking book.

He called later, but we mostly just talked about the post-op results…

He sounded really shy over the phone.

What happened? Oh, just got into a little fender bender. Whose fault? Mm, I’m gonna guess the 14 Jäger bombs.

What do you mean can you “smell” my cast?

When I get off crutches, I’m most looking forward to fucking my surgeon again. Thanks for asking.

I’ll probably just call the hospital and ask for him. I think his name was Dr. Peters? Dr… Phil? That sounds right.

If push comes to shove, I’ll just have to break this bad boy again.

Never Miss a Post.

Brown University, Providence, RI

© Proudly created with Wix, fuck you Wordpress