What Now

I am a gigantic weenie.

Any of you guys who know me well, know that I am extremely accident prone. I cut myself, fall out of chairs, trip over invisible speed bumps and generally expose my klutzy nature as easily and naturally as some people smile. Even though I am constantly hurting myself, my injuries are usually only surface damage, i.e. the cuts, the scrapes, the bruises and etc. Yesterday, however, I managed to hurt myself in a spectacularly lame way, which actually caused what I have come to think of as structural damage to my left ankle.

I was at work yesterday afternoon preparing to make a sign. Because things had gotten slow for me over the past couple of days, my drafting table was cluttered and I was clearing to off to make room for my task. I turned to move my chair out of the way when I somehow managed to fall out of my own shoe and trip over it. Granted, I was wearing flip-flops, so it wasn't as if I inadvertently popped out of my sneakers or something like that, but still, I tripped over my own shoe. My foot actually hit the edge of the afore mentioned shoe and rolled over on itself. Anyone who has weak ankles will know what I'm talking about: it's like your foot decides that it's tired of looking at the ground and suddenly decides that it wants to look at the sky. I actually heard a crunching sound when it rolled, and a network of bright, hot needles of pain stabbed into my foot and leg. I had just a moment to say out loud "whua..." and I went over. It was one of those moments where you fall in slow motion and have time to think a few things before you hit the ground. My first thought was "Oh my God, I can't believe I am actually falling down!" and my second thought was "Kelly, you're holding an Exacto knife and may very well pierce an organ, throw it!" I somehow managed to throw the blade away from myself before landing on the floor and clutching my ankle in pain.

I lay on the floor for a while, hoping against hope that no one would come back into my office and see me down there. I kept thinking that it wasn't hurt that bad, and as long as I could get up in a few minutes, I'd be fine. I'd fallen down before! NO BIGGIE! Well, I did manage to get up and put my shoe back on. My ankle hurt, but I was sure it wasn't hurt badly. I was limping, but I was sure it wouldn't last long. Well, it did last long. It lasted the rest of the day, as a matter of fact. By the time Steve came to pick me up, I had struggled to get down all three flights of stairs without screaming and limped through the museum while trying not to limp too much. I kept thinking that it would stop at any time, so I didn't do anything to help it along. When I got home, I helped Steve mow the lawn and limped around the house doing other things. Steve helped me put an ankle brace on, and I wedged my foot into a tennis shoe, but that was it. It wasn't until I awoke from a sound sleep at around 11:30 that I realized I was not just in pain, I was in Pain! I came to the conclusion that my ankle was fairly badly sprained, I had been too stupid to recognize that fact, and so I made it worse by not putting ice on it and staying off of it for a while.

As someone who has never done any kind of sport, I haven't often hurt myself in a lasting way. This was all new to me! It hurt too much to move it or put pressure on it. Hell, it hurt to look at it! I managed to get up to go to the bathroom, but couldn't walk over to it. I had to drag myself over the bed and use Steve as a crutch until I got inside. My ankle hurt so badly that I was nauseated and sweating by the time I scooted back to the bed. I kept arguing with myself that I was being a wuss and should just walk on the damn thing. The smarter part of myself argued back that if something is going to hurt this bad, it's probably actually not just in my imagination! Steve helped me elevate it and I took a few Tylenol to take the edge off. I finally went to sleep, and when I woke up this morning, it was a bit better. It still hurts and it's still swollen, but it isn't anything like it was last night. I'm able to hobble around respectably, as long as I don't hobble too far. My main problem is that I have errands I need to run today and I am going to have to wait until I'm sure I can go further than just a few feet at a time before I can do them.

I am a gigantic weenie.