I love dancing. I love going to the club and hanging out with friends and chatting and swirling across the dance floor. I, if I may so say, am a damn good dancer.
If one is standing next to the water cooler, and one is feeling the beginnings of a cramp in one’s shins….one should probably not roll out both of your ankles, one to each side to stretch out your legs.
There was an audible – and by audible, I mean my chat companions all heard it and winced aloud – crunch noise from my left ankle.
At first there was no pain. But, I was aware that that was probably not a good thing. I gathered my things and headed home.
Thank goodness I was wearing combat boots, y’all. They kept my ankle braced and in place for the hour long drive home.
I got home (3:47AM, good gravy!), peeled out of clothes and dropped into bed. Along about 7AM, the sun streaming through the blinds and a hungry BunnyCat woke me up. I muttered imprecations against both and flip-flounced over in bed.
Or, at least, I meant to flip-flounce. Instead, as soon as I put any pressure on my left foot, screaming minions of Hell jabbed me with fiery tines and sent horrific giggles up my leg.
I had Mister Man (resident nurse and husbeast) go over the injury. We’re pretty sure I just strained the hell out of oh, everything in my left ankle. The swelling was sorta phenomenal, as were the new and interesting colors that were starting to come up. I spent all of yesterday on the couch, foot propped up. I put no weight on it, iced it periodically, was actually compliant with Advil dosing. I adulted like an adult with an injury. I went to bed feeling pretty flippin’ smug about what a trooper I was.
This morning I got up and things felt much, much better. I could bear a little weight and the swelling had gone down dramatically.
Ahh, I thought. Almost better. I AM Wolverine, in spite of being 45. Healing factor AW YISS.
The Girl came down, all sleepy-hungry teen. Could I make breakfast? Of COURSE I could. I am, apparently, this generation’s Mom-verine*. I happily grated apples and whisked eggs and cooked bacon. Apple-pancakes and bacon deliciousness? Coming up!
My ankle was a little bitchy about that, so I sat down. After an hour or so, with breakfast and coffee and Advil working their magic, I decided I needed to go to the grocery store to get the things that were missed on the last mini-run.
Mister Man was not a fan of this plan. At all.
I am nothing, if not stubborn. After a few hours, I was able to mule my way to getting out of the house (I really despise being cooped in one place against my will for any length of time).
So I went to the grocery store just a bit ago, AMA.
I was wrong.
So. So. SOOO wrong. We’re not back to DEFCON ARGHFUCK!, but we are certainly back to DC-Oh, Shit.
Thank goodness that tomorrow’s interview is a phone interview. I am pretty certain that I am going to need a bit more rest of the soft tissues before trying to wear Fancy Shoes.
* – Mom + Wolverine. It just…c’mon work with me here.