A dog, a klutz and a path all meet outside for some fresh air on a nice Saturday afternoon.
After a fun filled day of cleaning the house, taking a nice hot shower, doing my hair, talking to long lost friends, I wanted to enjoy a beautiful winter afternoon.
I took my skittish dog, Kitty, down the path behind my house on the walking path that abuts the wash. Well, I started to take her down the path by the wash. I got about ten feet from the gate when I felt my body jerk to the side violently and the concrete rise up to meet me. While my ankle rolled sideways I heard a loud POP as I went down. The dog jumped out of the way.
I lay there motionless. I had been in this position before. I broke my ankle about 17-18 years ago that required surgery leaving two screws behind. I laid on my back with my twisted ankle crossed over my bent knee. I had no idea if I could even stand.
There were no people on the path. Nobody was coming to help me. I had my phone but it didn’t occur to me to call for help. I just laid there cringing from the pain. I tried to wiggle it. It moved a bit with some pain. I don’t know how long I was on the ground but eventually I was able to roll on my hands and knees and get up. I was grateful for the 75 pounds that I had lost.
I could put a little bit of weight on it. I began my hunchback limp home pulled by my jumpy dog. I finally let her go praying she would just head for the door. She did.
I got inside. Iced. Elevated. And planned. I had one problem other than the ankle, now the size of half a softball. I took the other dogs to the groomers. I had to pick them up.
I called my parents. They were supposed to come over later and watch Elf and have lunch. Now it was all different. They had to come over. Get the collars and money for the dogs. Get the dogs. Bring them back then take care of me.
They wanted me to see the healer. To see if she could help with the swelling. I honestly thought it was just badly sprained. The healer took one look at it and said “hospital”.
We went to the urgent care. We pulled up. The inside was empty. It looked promising. My parents said they would drop me off and come back for me. I signed in. It was going to be a three hour wait.
What was I going to do? I had to get it seen. My parents brought my truck back so I could wait in my truck instead of inside the urgent care. I watched Elf alone.
It didn’t hurt that bad. I could walk on it. Not my whole weight but limping. My mom gave me some crutches. That hurt more than walking on it.
The urgent care was a joke. They did X-rays but didn’t exactly tell me what was broken. They didn’t help me rewrap my ankle. Just said ice and elevate and see an orthopedic. It’s broken. Try not no walk on it.
Okay good advice.
I’m living the dream of icing and elevating. I even have this cooling machine of ice and water that wraps around my ankle. I’m set. Just days if this. All while feeling slightly hypomanic and wanting to be running around my house doing things. Painting the walls. Scrubbing the floors. Cleaning out the cupboards. I can do none of that.
I can walk on the ankle with almost no pain. Complete weight bearing. Just no twisting. I still think it’s not broken.
I go to the orthopedic. After another set of X-rays after two plus hours of waiting to see a doctor. It’s broken.
The very bottom tip of my fibula is fractured. Broken straight across. About an inch from the bottom. They gave me a boot that pumps up like those old sneakers and sent me on my way.
Insurance doesn’t cover shit. I’m on winter break. I’m going to be in bed watching tv with my feet up (the same plan if I hadn’t broken my ankle) and I have nowhere to wear my Cinderella slipper.
Return in one month. Let’s see how I heal. Who knows. Maybe I have magic bones. 😂