Saturday morning, Steve and I were out running errands and made an unplanned stop at Home Depot. We were walking into the building when I either stepped in a puddle of water, or possibly oil (I couldn't tell what it was, I just know it was slippery) when my left foot slipped and went down. Hard. I'm really glad Steve was holding one of my hands, because I think if he hadn't pulled me up just a bit, I might have broken my wrist or something. It wasn't even one of those funny, slipping around trying to catch my balance kind of falls either, it was just that moment of knowing I'd slipped and then hitting the ground. Everything turned except for my left foot, which is weird since that one was the one that stepped in the puddle to begin with. My right flip-flop flew off and I was just suddenly lying there on the concrete under the awning of the store.
Once I hit the ground, my mind went "Oh, how embarrass...holy crap my leg is on fire!" It must've looked bad, because Steve didn't even laugh! :) I vaguely remember a man walking past us to go inside (thanks for your concern, there, good Samaritan) but mostly I was doing that internal thing where you try to decide if you're going to cry or scream profanity. Luckily, I did neither. I honestly thought someone from inside would come out and at least help pick me up off of the ground, since we were literally just a few feet from the entrance, but no one did. So Steve picked me up and helped me back to the car so I could assess the damage while he went inside the store.
I actually didn't think I was hurt at all, once I sat down. I mean, my hand was bleeding from where it had landed on a piece of gravel, but I cleaned that up. My ankle seemed fine, which I thought was strange owing to how much it hurt when I actually fell. I was relieved that it wasn't worse. I just sat in the car flexing it and making sure nothing else was hurt.
Steve was actually in the store for a long time, so I thought he must have been telling someone that I slipped in a puddle. We aren't litigious people, but I figured he'd at least mention that there was a dangerous slippery puddle by the door. Turned out that, no, he'd just gone inside and looked around for whatever he'd gone in for. (Don't worry, I've already had my moment of berating him for this. But I can't really blame him completely because I said I was OK.) He said no one was around the door when he went in, so probably no one saw me. I seriously doubt that, but since he didn't say anything to them, I'm sure they weren't going to bring it up.
Anyway, so he came out with his stuff and we went on our way to finish our errands. My ankle did start to hurt, so I guess the initial painlessness was due to adrenaline or something. Stupid me walked on that ankle a lot that day, limping from place to place, until we got home and I could really take a good look at it. It was swollen very badly, but not bruised at all. We wrapped it up, put some ice on it, and I kept it propped up for a while.
By that night, I could barely walk it hurt so bad. I've sprained this same ankle a lot of times, and it's never hurt like that before. I had to pull myself around from place to place, and I even tried using a crutch I found (weirdly, only one crutch) but I wasn't coordinated enough to make that work. I finally went to bed, tried to keep it propped up on pillows, and not move it unless I had to.
Sunday was Easter, of course, and I had to run sound and lights for the service, and even though it was a lot better from the day before, I still had to hobble around like an old lady to get ready for church. I couldn't wear my heels, of course, and I don't own any flat dress shoes, so I ended up wrapping my ankle over my hose and having to wear a pair of those Dr. Scholls Fast Flats that were too big for me, so I could stuff my bandaged foot inside of them. Sexy. I managed to get inside the church with Steve's help, and Mr. Lee brought me the cane he'd used after he'd had knee surgery so I could get up and down stairs. I was a sight. I also felt like an idiot for using a cane just because I'd sprained my ankle. We have a child at church who was born with spina biffida and not even she uses a cane. It made me feel bad and obvious and attention seeking. Also, I'm not really coordinated enough to use a cane either, so I had to walk on the one corner of my heel that didn't cause pain to shoot up my leg, while trying to figure out how to get the cane to work in synch with my other leg. I was very awkward. I probably could have done without the cane except for the stairs and needing it to brace myself while sitting down and getting into the car, but I was glad to have it to help me out.
By that afternoon, I was hobbling about quite respectfully without the cane and my ankle was hurting much less, so I managed to get around Mom's house with little problem. We went there for lunch and had a great time, although I wish we'd stayed there longer and visited more. I miss my mom, since I don't see her as much. She says I never drop by...but to be fair, I do live 45 minuets away and don't happen to be in her neighborhood that often! :)
My ankle is not nearly as sore, but the rest of me is finally feeling the aftermath of falling down that hard. I think I pulled some muscles when I fell. My ankle is still swollen up like someone has stuck half a tennis ball under my skin, but amazingly it isn't bruised or anything. My big thing right now is that I can't go right back to the gym. I know I can't go today, at least, since it still hurts a little and is swollen, but I have a friend who has an MS in Exercise Science and is a performance enhancement specialist and injury prevention guy (Jeoff, Josh's partner, and he's awesome) and he said I could probably go back tomorrow as long as I didn't do anything too strenuous. I'd normally love an excuse not to go work out, but after the weird dreams I had when I missed last week, I'm scared to miss too much!
So there you go! The saga of me falling down and hurting myself! I hope you had a lovely Easter weekend! :)