This time last year I ruined my vacation by breaking my elbow falling off my bike in France. This year I broke my ankle. I was throwing Stella up into the air (and catching her!) when I rolled my ankle on a steep concrete incline. As I rolled I was intent on keeping hold of Stella rather than hitting the deck at speed so rolled again and again. The pain was intense . . . but Stella was safe.
I was determined to “walk it off” and for four weeks did my best to do that. Unfortunately, the pain intensified so that I couldn’t even sleep at night. Reluctantly I asked to see a doctor. Saatchi’s nurse, Lynn Cordes, got me straight into see Dr. Michael Ianello who had treated me before. What a top man. Six x-rays and an MRI scan later I sat resplendent with a fractured ankle, a torn ligament and a sprain. I also had ringing ears from not having been to see him for four weeks. It could have been worse if I told him that I tried to play tennis and worked out in the gym everyday to heal it.
Anyway, I flew off to Brazil two days ago with my foot in a camwalker, armed with Voltaren and strict instructions for the physio. The camwalker was blue, which didn’t fit my man in black persona, so they found me a black one. I’m thinking of putting a red stripe up the back so it would look like it’s Prada! Marie Heloisa, my HSM personal assistant in Brazil, managed to spirit up a terrific physio who followed the instructions religiously for two sessions and I went into my speech in Sao Paulo in front of 800 top executives resplendent in said camwalker. The theme of my speech for 1-1/2 hours was Winning Ugly and I guess I personified it hobbling around on the big stage of the Teatro Alfa. Let the healing begin.