A Snappy Story

(It is England in the 70s. My dad has been playing football — soccer — and ruptured his Achilles tendon. He had it repaired and spent six months in a cast from his foot to his knee. He is at the hospital, with the cast freshly removed, for an appointment with a physiotherapist.)

Physiotherapist: “I am going to put this skipping rope on the ground, and I want you to jump over it.”

Dad: “No.”

Physiotherapist: “Go on; you’ll be fine.”

Dad: “No way. You’ve got to be kidding.”

Physiotherapist: “I know what I am doing.”

(They argue a bit. But Dad gives in. SNAP! The Achilles tendon snaps all the way up the back of his leg to his knee. He then spends nine months with a plaster from his foot to his hip. Fast forward to the 2000s. Dad decides to get some soil delivered so he can work on a garden bed out the front while Mum takes it easy. He books the delivery of soil and realises my car is in the way of where it should be delivered. No problem, he thinks; he’ll just move the car. It doesn’t start, so he decides to roll it. It doesn’t have to go far, so he takes his foot off the brake, uses his other leg to get it started and SNAP. The car is fine. But there goes his Achilles tendon. It’s on the other foot, but he knows the feeling well. Despite being in a lot of pain, he is already in the car. The foot he’s damaged is his left, and he only needs the right to drive to the hospital, so he does so. Eventually he’s seen by the doctor.)

Doctor: “So, what seems to be the problem?”

Dad: “I’ve snapped my Achilles tendon.”

Doctor: *laughs* “It’ll just be sprained.”

Dad: “I know what you’re thinking, but in this case, you’re going to have to trust me.”

(Dad gets a scan; it is snapped. The doctor turns to him, bewildered.)

Doctor: “How did you know? And how did you drive here?”

Dad: “Well, let me tell you a story…”