We are between houses, in transition, encumbered by our possessions and overwhelmed by the buying, selling and moving process. And… we are oldish and we are injured.. Dan has a splint on his injured thumb, and I have a boot on my sprained ankle. Between the two of us, we are next to worthless.
Tuesday night I went flying down the stairs between our office and living room; a trip I successfully navigate dozens of times on most days. On this particular trip, my brain miscalculated the number of steps and/or the gravity was particularly strong; I missed a step entirely, landing with my full weight on the side of my left foot, causing a tumble, which was followed by a volley of extremely bad language and a trip to the ER.
As a tennis player, I have rolled my ankle (come to think of it – it is always the same ankle) a few other times; and am familiar with the routine: Ice, elevation, wrapping and rest. This felt different, the pain was intense and I could not conceive of putting any weight on the foot. It was the most pain I’d experienced since my emergency appendectomy a few years ago. After describing my symptoms to the on-duty triage nurse, she advised me to go in and get it X-Rayed.
This all transpired at the inconvenient time of 7:45 pm. Our local Urgent care clinic closes at 8 pm; so the only option for immediate medical attention was the Emergency Room. Dan took a little convincing that my injury merited that level of attention — including a chaufered trip to the hospital 20 miles away. Once convinced, the logistics of getting me off the couch (where I had camped with a bag of ice and my ipad); up a flight of stairs and into the car was a challenge. Dan was helpfully lifting on my arm, which helped keep weight off my foot, but did absolutely nothing to help propel me forward or upward. We do own a pair of crutches, but they were one of the many assorted items in storage–awaiting our move. Eventually we managed to lurch to the car for the trip the ER.
Once there, Dan had several suggestions for the hospital facility staff concerning the drop-off and parking accommodations; which were not very accommodating on this very rainy evening. Dan is prone to offering helpful advice of this nature–a characteristic that does not always endear him to his audience.
The Physician’s assistant that attended to me was someone I sat next to during four years of High School Homeroom. While this was not a particularly encouraging memory–it is truly unfair to judge anyone based solely on their High School experience. We had a fairly awkward exchange during which I learned that he had not attended our recent HS reunion because he had not been invited; and he does not own a cell phone or use Facebook.
After X-rays the diagnosis was a fractured metatarsal bone in my foot (although I kept thinking ‘marsupial’ instead of metatarsal–and no, the only pain medication I had taken was Ibuprofen). I was given a fracture ‘one size fits many’ Boot –roughly the dimensions and weight of an ottoman; and was sized for crutches. After a couple attempts to fit me with the youth sized crutches, I was issued an adult pair on their lowest height setting.
During my follow-up visit with the bone doc; I learned that I do not have a fracture, but merely a sprain. I graduated from the ginormous boot and crutches to a lace up support brace; and my foot is already doing much better.
Suffice it to say that I am taking my time navigating any stairs. Look twice and step once.