Falling down and hurting things. (posted December 7, 2003)

I’m totally injured over here. I have a bad knee and a sprained ankle! It’s positively tragic.

A couple of weeks ago we went out for some much delayed dancing fun. We hit the strip and went to a fine specimen of bar/dance club called Chemistry which was complete with attendant in the bathroom, perhaps-professional dancer in shiny red satin pants (pleated!) and an equally shiny blue shirt with some kind of small metal decoration studded all over the collar, and crazy dancing man who stood on the highest flat surfaces around and demonstrated the most flexible midsection I’ve ever seen on a fellow his age. And, it was fun. I was dancing around like an idiot and then:

My knee went out, and I fell. Someone screamed! I couldn’t stand up. My whole left leg was beat up, and I was in so much pain. Michelle helped me to a stool and I put my foot up on a bar table and sat there for a while, cup of ice on my knee and an ice pack that the best bar back ever brought me.

Long story short, I sprained my ankle. Short story long:

  • I opened the towel around my wonderful ice pack (a towel! I don’t even use one of those at home on my ice packs. This bar back was FANTASTIC.) to readjust it a little and there was an Icy Icy HAND! It was a rubber glove filled with ice. It ruled.
  • These drunk guys stopped by to check on me. As the first one asked after my health the second ran his hand up my leg solicitously. My very very hair leg. He was totally unflustered, but did walk away quickly. Hee.
  • I made friends with a guy having a bachelor party. He walked out after I did (well, I didn’t walk. I was the hopping queen.) and got to witness the people standing on the second floor deck yelling filthy ugly things at us. Jerks. So, we, being classy ladies, yelled back. They yelled some more, and someone who will remain nameless winged the rubber glove of icy hand at them. They winged something at us, and I pulled out my cell phone and pretended to call the cops. And then we hopped to the corner where our ride had graciously pulled around to pick us up (having to bravely maneuver around the drunk-bus on the corner).

And then, we needed crutches for me! I hopped all over the place on Sunday, asking people for rides and jumping around like a fool. I had to go to school to do work, and then to a study group at a classmates house, and while I was away Michelle reconnoitered the scary basement and found a pair of crutchers to use. It was so relieving.

The next day my trip to school was excruciating. I had to get in early to finish more homework, so I caught a 6 AM bus. It was awful. It took me 15 minutes to crutch the three blocks to the corner, and I am sure I don’t have to tell you it was nearly dark out then. I ran into my chemistry professor at the bus stop but neither of us noticed the other, really. I got off at the stop before the short cut I took, which wasn’t really a short cut. It took me 40 minutes to crutch across campus on the I’m-not-really-sure-it-was-a-short-cut short cut. And then I climbed 3 flights of stairs, because that’s where the trail took me and I sure as heck wasn’t about to go around to the flat side of the building. An hour later, I was in my office. The trip involved some angry muttering, some frustrated tears, and two monster blisters on the palms of my hands. After that, I looked for rides where ever I could. Tuesday I got a ride from Paulina who has a 10:30 class. Wednesday there wasn’t any school, and that was just fine with me. I drove in to take care of some errands. And then it was thanksgiving weekend and visiting Gabulo could drive around (and show off her new hybrid civic in the process! V. nice).

And for those of you who really want to know what the doctor said: Monday they thought about sending me for x-rays. I reminded them that I had opted foolishly for plan 3 health coverage, which includes a very attractive and as yet virgin incredibly high deductible. They told me to come back on Wednesday. So I did, parking illegally in a fraternity parking lot across the street and crutching my way over. They said perhaps I had structural damage in my knee (yuck) but that my ankle was doing fine and here are some exercises to try out. They also said acupuncture was not a bad way to go, but it wouldn’t help with my structural injuries which I should totally get checked out when I had a real form of health insurance (goo).

Want to see some totally pixelicious and nearly indiscernible pictures of my ankle? These are from 12/2/03, which I can do because this is an entry that I wrote after the fact and put up even later than after I took pictures. So the swelling is MUCH better than it was, and the bruising is MUCH better than it was too.

It’s kind of hard to see, isn’t it. These are the two big bruise areas.

This is where my ankle bone used to live. It’s swollen!

Big fat ugly bone. Big fat ugly swelling.

Here’s more bruise. You know, if you’re into that kind of thing.

So that’s the tragic tragic story of my falling down. Usually I just tumble, and don’t hurt myself badly. Remember the “are you an athlete” story? That’s usually how it goes for me. But not this time. It’ll take a little bit longer to clean up from this one.