You end up hitting the ground. Literally.
Today ended up being very interesting. At the end of the day, D and I went out to deliver the last of the Girl Scout cookies. This included the ones to my parents’ neighbors. P and I were at the door waiting for D to come out with everything, with him in our little glass enclosure and me out in the driveway. When all of a sudden I moved my foot….
And down I went. I heard a pop, and my ankle hurt, and I knew what needed to happen. I yelled for D to get her dad back up, and off we went to the emergency room.
The wheelchair I sat in was fun. I had no reverse, but I think that was because I didn’t know one of the brakes was still on. I let my mom know where I was, and she let the neighbors know what was going on. Of course, she had to do it from almost where I was, but she had the ability.
Anyhow, the usual course of stuff was done—x-rays, a doc came in and “looked” at it (I find it interesting how LITTLE this hospital does sometimes in the emergency room), talk to me. I always feel interrogated. This time, instead of getting an Ace Bandage, I got an aircast. I actually like how it feels—it stablizes my foot really well, so my foot doesn’t droop quite as much as usual. My left foot tends to droop anyhow, this is just going to make it worse.
And I’m not looking into fault over this. I just happened to be standing on the worst part of my driveway. I suppose I could have been wearing better shoes—my boots maybe. One of us could have shoveled it at some point during the day. But oh well, I can deal with this.
What I’m finding fun is trying to figure out how to deal with things. I told my mom that to keep after P, I’m probably going to have to crawl. I found out getting back into bed this morning that crawling is actually a really great position—it takes all the weight off my foot, and feels really good. I’m going to be using a lot of plastic bags to carry things. I’ve got to make up some wraps for the crutches—the pads are rubber, and they taste horrible. How do I know how they taste? Because I touch the pads to walk, then touch my mouth after to eat. And of course I forget about having touched the pads until I taste the rubberness on my fingers. 😐 Good thing they are brand new crutches—they have a whole wall of crutches that just happen to be in the room my bed was in. The one thing I’m wondering about is how I’m going to change P’s butt when I’m the only one up and it’s a really messy one! I figure though that since the pad we change him on can be moved, I’ll bring that down and change him on the bed or something. No big.
As I said, I don’t think I’m going to make any kind of claim on my landlord (and we don’t have renter’s insurance), but I might be making one on my sprain in the Army. The guy my dad rides with also works for the VA, and suggested I look into it. My dad’s going to get me the paperwork, and we’ll see from there.
Well, I’ve got to go sit and put this foot up, so I’ll see you all later 🙂