Saturday, January 03, 2004
I think it may have EXPLODED
First off, welcome back all. For those of you who think I have a LOT of explaining to do, you are correct. One hundred percent. And I'll get to all of that later. But in the meantime, an explanation of my exceedingly pathetic idiocy.You see, all in all, I'm a kid. A little, scared kid. So when I'm in this huge freaking house all by myself late at night, I tend to do silly little kid things. (And no, at present, there are no monsters under the bed. I had it thoroughly inspected by the Greenville Monster Squad.) However, late last night, waaaaaaay past my bedtime, I was certain of two things. One, I had not locked the front door. And two, because of blunder one, there was now someone in my house waiting to kill me and/or steal my stereo and brand new DVD player.
So, since neither of my male noise-checkers were around to make sure I was properly tucked (read: not delusional and paranoid), I elected to do the noise checking myself. Historically bad idea. In my creeping-Mission-Impossible noise checking, I deemed it best to leave the stairway light turned off. Due to this oh so witty decision, I missed at least the last three steps on the stair case.
My ankle shifted into some terribly awkward and very LOUD position, taking the full brunt not-so-slim 5'6" frame as it found its way to the bottom of the stairs. My thoughts as I lay sprawled on the floor, head resting on step #2 went a little something like this (in no particular order):
"Holy SHIT that hurt."
"I wonder if the door is locked."
"Is my foot even still attached?"
"Do you KNOW how much my deductible is?"
"Holy SHIT!!! that hurt."
I then belly crawled to the door only to find that it was indeed locked. Damnit. Worked my way into a seated position. Then into some not so graceful flamingo configuration and proceeded to hop my way back upstairs. Not fun at all.
Once upstairs, I elevated and assessed. My ankles are notoriously "loose". I can roll them, touch them to the ground on either side, no biggie. Too many years of soccer have made them nearly grotesque in their flexibility. But still, I needed a consult. Something just didn't feel right. Things were getting all tingly and numb.
I called Tina (with it now nearly 2 in the morning). Brief conversation about how in the hell I got myself into this fix. And then, in her infinite awesome friendness, she came back over, tended to me like a war nurse, iced, wrapped, and elevated the ankle, pumped me full of Aleve, and went on her way. Thank God I have friends like that.
Now, almost twelve hours since "the incident," it still feels strange. If I do put weight on it, it makes alarming noises. And in my experiences, I recall ankles being relatively silent in their normal function. I've yet to trek to the ER or to a clinic. I'm holding out for either excruciating pain, alarming swelling, or better insurance, whichever comes first.
Heather at 9:40 AM
