On Sunday we went to church, as is the norm, and stayed for the picnic. The picnic was nice. We got to chat it up with a couple that has just added a second child to their clan, and she's quite a cutie. We like them, but never seem to get together outside of church. Must work on that, but that's another post for another day. Today's post is about what happened on our way out.
Pop.
Okay, more like POP!
As I was gathering our scraps to put in the trash can (one napkin and a bunch of fruit that our lovely daughter threw on the dirty ground) I stood up. I thought it was natural - the trash can is over there, I am here, I need to walk over there, I should stand up. Unfortunately, Abby had the same idea, that she should get up quickly.
Since I was planning to walk, and indeed making movements toward that same direction that Abby was lunging, I changed direction quickly and rolled my ankle over a tree root. I heard the aforementioned POP! and got a little woozy. (Anny later said that I lost all of the color in my face.) I laid on the ground a bit to get the sky to stop wobbling so much while at the same time talking with Eric (the dad of the family spoken of earlier) and generally trying to act like nothing happened.
While Anny went inside to get ice, I determined that I was fine. On the way home I was spoken to like a child, which is honestly the best thing in such a situation. I eliminated the ER from contention because it was not swollen, but that was not really making Anny happy. Our final verdict (mine) was to go home and ice my ankle.
And so I did. For five hours.
Having been to emergency rooms in various states around the country, I have learned a few things.
If you want great care, go to a remote place! (Casper, WY)
If you want fast care, don't go on a weekend - unless you're bleeding.
Some hospital systems do things right, some don't. (right is in Metro Pittsburgh, PA)
It's never going to be pleasant, so just grin and bear it.
Needless to say, we waited until Monday.
We headed a bit out of our way early Monday morning, but were in and out of the ER in about an hour and a half. (GO Howard General!) The staff was very friendly, and mostly helpful, or so I thought. I got to explain over and over, though, that I could not take Advil because of my kidneys, but it appears that "nephritis" gets buried in all of the paperwork of a chart. (BAD thing!)
The diagnosis was a "good sprain" of my left ankle. I was given crutches and a good ankle brace, which it turns out the nurse put on backwards and just wrong. Lucky for me, my brother just hurt his ankle last month and was able to get me figured out on Monday evening. I went to work today but made sure my foot was propped up. I was sure to leave a little early to get ice on it and try to beat the traffic a bit.
The hardest thing is that I'm having to play too hesitantly with Abby. Anny has been in charge of baths, which I one of my jobs, and it kills me. I know that in a few more days it will be back to fine and I'll be back to my normal roughhousing with the kid, but she does not get it. Oh well.
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