Wednesday, September 7, 2011

It's not broken, just badly sprained

At my age, we don't snap back like we did when we were younger. 

I had guests over the weekend.  My mom and granddaughter were here.  We're such a dysfunctional family, suffice it to say I'm glad the weekend is over and I'm back to just me again.

I was helping load everything for their return trip, making a couple of trips back into the house.  There are six steps outside that lead down to the sidewalk to the front door.  I started down the steps and took a tumble down the last two or three.  Very graceful, huh?  I used to consider myself clumsy and would joke and say my middle name should have been "Grace".  Maybe I need to start saying that again. 

So - my left ankle was killing me - but I iced it, and kept it elevated and went to work yesterday.   A co-worker took me to the clinic and after x-rays it was determined it's not broken, just badly sprained.   So I was given pain meds, anti-inflammatory and crutches.  Oh, and a tetanus shot.  Now I think the tetanus shot injection site hurts almost as much as the ankle.  Almost.

Anyway, I get back to the office, finish up what I was working on before I went to the clinic, and headed home.  I had an assignment I needed to finish once I arrived at the house.  No problem.  Except...smart me decided I'd go ahead and take the muscle spasm medicine.  Last thing I remember is sitting on the sofa with my foot elevated and the laptop in my lap.  Four hours later I woke up.  I hopped to the bedroom, crawled in the bed, promptly went back to sleep and didn't wake up until ten hours later.  Awesome medicine, huh??  I think I'll definitely take another one Friday night.  What a wonderful uninterrupted night of sleep.  It was Heaven.

I told the doctor I needed a quick healing -- I am a volunteer usher at the Fox Theater and I had signed up to work later this month for "Wicked".  I started volunteering two years ago - specifically so I could see "Wicked" and in all the time I've been volunteering, it hasn't come back.  Until now.  And now I'm injured and certainly won't be able to assist people to their seats if I can't walk.  And I'm ushering upstairs.  Up.Stairs.  I've got to heal fast.  FAST.

One funny thing about my fall.  My husband was behind me when I fell.  God, I was lying there hurting.  He tried to help me up, and I was like, "no,  no, God, I hurt.  Hold on, I'll get up on my own."  Then I said something like, "I think they felt that in China."  I was lying face-down on the sidewalk and he was leaning over me and thought I said something about hurting my "V_ _ _ _ _" (rhymes with China").  Even hurting as bad as I was, I still had to laugh.  Isn't it crazy how our hearing plays trick on us too when we get old?  And no, I didn't hurt my V_ _ _ _ _.  Thank God!

What a crappy way to end an already crappy weekend.  Every time we get together, one or more of the following happen:
     someone ends up getting their feelings hurt
     someone ends up crying
     someone ends up storming out of the house heading back to their house
    
And I usually end up in the middle of it all. 

Am I the only one with an dysfunctional family?   God, I hate it!