(Yes, I have to use the appropriate “an” in the title despite the meme reference and the use of “ouchie” as if it’s a real word. Go figure.)
So I broke myself. Well, not really my whole self, just part of me: my foot. My left foot. Wait, isn’t that a movie? Ah…digressing early in the blog post, I see! No matter; I shall press on.
So here’s what happened: I was on my way out the door–or rather, down the stairs–on Friday morning. Luckily the minty ninja (aka my seven-year-old) was behind me on the stairs so she escaped any sort of injury from my lack of gracefulness. Anyway, I was minding my own business and walking down the stairs (slowly!!). I really have no clue what happened next except that I was suddenly on my butt with my left foot underneath me.
The foot went numb immediately. That was right before it started hurting like hell.
It was sad.
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No, seriously. It was very sad.
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Um…yeah, that’s just disturbing…
Anyway, like the stubborn person I am, I thought, “No. I’m okay. I don’t have insurance. Surely it’s just sprained. If I just put some ice on it…”
Minty Ninja ran around helping me prepare her lunch, picking up the bags which had been dropped in the process of my fall–they’d unceremoniously been left right where they’d landed–and generally watching me with seven-year-old fear and concern. I mean, I’m Mommy. I’m freakin’ invincible. I’m supposed to take things like a man woman and always be fine.
In reality, I’m hobbling around the kitchen exclaiming “Oh God this hurts so bad!”
Anyway, I get her off to school and assure her that she doesn’t need to worry about me. “I’ll be fine,” I say. And she trusts me. Because really–even if I did break my foot–I clearly wasn’t dying (there were no tears, no blood).
As I began pulling out of the parking lot though, I found that I’d suddenly been overcome with this horrible rage. I wanted to yell at the kids who were yielding at the crosswalk to just get the hell out of the way. Other drivers clearly didn’t realize that they were on My Road and in My Way. I wanted to reach through the radio waves and strangle the DJ for being such and idiot…
And then the logical mind thought, “Maybe this isn’t the best way to go into the office. Maybe you should go to the ER.”
Which is what I did.
I called the other half of MW^2 to come meet me at said ER, and what did he do? Not only did he come to hold my hand, push my wheelchair around if needed, drive me home, and make me laugh the whole time, but he also brought me coffee. Glorious, wonderful coffee.
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Well, sure enough, I’d not only sprained the crap out of my ankle–I have pretty purple and yellow bruises now, thankyouverymuch!–but I’d broken two bones in my foot. Well, fractured is more like it. But STILL: They is broke.
So, I’m hobbling around the house, the office, and the world in general on a House-esque cane. (Note: if you pop prescription painkillers, hobble on a cane, and say things like “I don’t do happy,” people will start calling you House. Just a warning.)
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Heh.
Anyway, I’m trying to take it easy. For instance, I’m lunching in-office today and blogging to the world about my mishap. My foot is elevated and actually is the shape of a normal foot today, although “normal” feet don’t come in so many varying shades of black and blue…
The upside? Well, there’s really not one other than the fact that it could have been a TON worse. So, I’m going to count my blessings and keep on trucking! I should be good to go in about six weeks. Plan on more world-conquering then (or before…who are we kidding??).
*Also, I’m going to try and be a better blogger. I really need to update this more often. I’m going to find some blog prompts and ideas so we can interact more. Because I miss you, blog readers. Really I do.
