WYFP: The "I Feel your Pain" Edition

Bah!

I’m tired and grumpy and in a foul mood.  I’m sick of Chimpy and his evil cronies, sick of their games, sick of Washington politics, sick of candidate diaries, pissed off that the candidate I’ve been supporting since last year, John Laesch, is being undermined by the DCCC, I’ve had a couple of crappy weeks at work, I’m in for an even crappier time next week, and last Sunday, I sprained my ankle.

WYFP is our community's Saturday evening gathering to talk about our problems, empathize with one another, and share advice, pootie pictures, favorite adult beverages, and anything else that we think might help. Everyone and all sorts of troubles are welcome. May we find peace and healing here.
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Sunday morning started off innocently enough.  I was drinking my coffee, when I decided before I did anything else, I’d clean the floors.  I took up the smaller area rugs in the kitchen, folded them in half, and laid them down on the carpet just under the one step going down into the family room.  I went back into the kitchen to begin my 3-step process of cleaning the kitchen and dining room floors.  OK, I just got new flooring in June (after 20 years of waiting), and I obsess about them.  I have to first sweep with a broom to get up the larger/heavier items, then I dry-Swiffer to make sure I get up all the rest of the pet hair that might still be lurking around, and then I wet-Swiffer with the special cleaner.  What used to take me 15 minutes cleaning my old flooring is now taking me an hour.  Obsess, Obsess, Obsess.

And it’s worth every minute because my floors are gee-awrgeous!!

Anyway, I’m doing my dry-Swiffer thingy, when I see my doggie, Jessie, at the back door off the family room, imploring with her cute little wagging tail, perked-up ears and big brown eyes to be let in. Naturally, I drop everything, because I can’t let my little precious baby stand out in the chilly morning air for one second longer than necessary,  but as I take that step down into the family room, the side of my right foot half-steps on the rugs I had just put there, and then ... my ankle turned under.  I felt (and heard) the cracking, the snapping, and the popping, and I fell down like a 500lb sack of dry cement.

My son and his friend had been sleeping in the family room, so my son came rushing over to me, threw his arms around me, and then he proceeded to try and pick me up. This wasn’t helping a bit, because when you think you’ve broken your foot, the last thing you want to do is stand on it.  Funny, that.

Strange, disjointed sequences of random thought were going through my brain:  

I broke my ankle, omg, omg,  I just broke my fucking ankle.  Ow, Ow, Ow!  Jessie needs to come in, someone let the dog in.  Stop trying to pick me up!! I always wondered what it would feel like to break my ankle, and now I know.  It hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.  My son keeps breathing on me, and his morning breath is horrible.  MY coffee breath is horrible.  Ouch, Ouch, Ouch.  No, No, don’t touch it!  Jessie’s now in the house, I'm sprawled on the floor and she thinks I’m playing.  Now she’s licking me.  And she’s got bad doggie breath.  Why does everyone in this house have bad breath?!  If they put my foot in a cast, how will I drive?  How will I get to work and to school?  Shit, how can I even drive myself to the hospital?  How long will this agony go on?  Jasmine, the pootie, has now decided to join the party, she’s arched her back and rubbing up against my head.  And now she’s swung her butt around into my face (Here, smell my stinky butt!).  Get that furry thing out of here!!  Don’t touch my foot, son, don’t .... YES, IT HURTS WHEN YOU DO THAT!!!!  I desperately need to brush my teeth, why didn’t I brush my teeth yet?  Is my foot swelling up badly? How long have I been laying here?  Did I die?  Please?  I need to stand up.  Omg, I can’t stand up, I can’t put any pressure on it.   No, wait, yes, I can.  OK, ok, if I can just drag my broken foot, I can hobble over to the bathroom, and then I can brush my teeth.

The pain was beginning to subside, and after I finished my teeth (oh, that felt soooo much better), I figured that I probably didn’t break my ankle after all.  It was very sore, but I could stand on it.  Great.  I only severely sprained it.  Now I could finish the floors (obsess, obsess).  Then I’d think about going to urgent care.

Once I finished with the wet-Swiffer, I then figured that I really should vacuum the carpet first.  Yes, vacuuming was a very important thing to do.  So much more important than getting a silly x-ray.

Once the vacuuming was done, even though I was still having some pain, I was confident that I didn’t break it.  Maybe I shouldn’t go to the doctors, I’m sure they’re busy enough.  Guess I’ll go outside and dig up the rest of my flower bulbs and bring them inside for the winter.  Yes, sir, take that sore, tender foot and push down hard with the shovel.  And then walk on it all over uneven ground.  And would you believe, after an hour of doing that, my ankle began to really, really hurt again.  Ah, but I only had a little more to do ......

It had been about 3 hours after my little event, when I realized the area around my ankle bone had swollen up to the size of a Grade A Extra Large egg.

Yup, time to go to urgent care.

The doctor said there was no break, take a couple of Advil and put your foot up.  That’s it?  No Ace bandage, no prescription for pain, no sympathy, no nuttin’.  After I got home, my darling husband wrapped an ice pack on my ankle with a bandage, helped me put my foot up on a cushion, and other than a couple of extremely hurtful and hobbled trips to the bathroom, that’s where I laid like a slug for the rest of the day.

It turns out that it wasn’t really that major of a sprain.  I only had a bad day or two, though I’ve watched with awe throughout the week as my puffy foot turned all different shades of purdy colors.  But I’ve been able to move around, and other than a constant dull ache, it now only really hurts when I knock my foot up against something (which tends to happen with annoying frequency).

Needless to say, the entire episode has done nothing to improve my already crappy mood.

Jessie presents ... The Offending Step

Yeah, she may LOOK innocent, but I have my doubts.  I think she was in on it.  

The cat, too.

As far as FPs go, it wasn't so bad.  It could have been worse.

How's about ya'll.  Any FPs you want to share?  Or not.