During my run this morning I hit a patch of rocky gravel, twisted my left ankle, and fell to the sandy cement where I further skinned up my right palm and bruised my left knee. I could see my left earphone piece had been knocked to the ground, but Coldplay still mocked me in my right ear as I laid motionless on my stomach, willing my body to move. After slowly rolling to my back, carefully sitting up on my bottom, and discovering my multiple sources of excruciating pain, I thought:
Why, why, why had I chosen to run in the hidden alley instead of the front sidewalks or roadways?! Yes, I was only 1/2 block from home--but three house-lengths still seemed miles away.
With painstaking limps, I gingerly inched my way home and banged with my might on the backdoor (closest to the alley), catching everyone off guard. Lee practically carried me to the couch--quickly assessing my wounds, icing my ankle, and cleaning up my bleeding hand. All the while, little munchkins tearfully asked if mommy was going to be okay. My sniffling 3 year old snuggled tightly against my side wrapping his body around my left arm, my very concerned 5 year old held a pack of ice on my left ankle, and my 1 year old toddled over, lifted my shirt, and began to nurse (obviously a stress-eater).
After about 20 minutes Lee said something like, "You know, at some point we're going to have to have the discussion on when to take you to the doctor or hospital." I said I wanted to wait this out because all they'd tell me is to "ice the ankle, wrap it tightly, and take some painkillers." But after trying to stand up and discovering I couldn't even move my toes without screaming, I caved. We headed to the clinic by 10:45 and they later sent me on to the hospital around 12:30 while our dear friends watched the kiddos for a couple hours.
You know, I've twisted my ankle a great many times and have never, not once, experienced anything even remotely close to this type of pain. Every bone on my foot seems to hurt to touch or move--every tendon, ligament, and other soft-spot is throbbing. The swelling is seriously unbelievable and I still can't even wiggle my toes without excruciating pain. And this from a homebirther!
By 1:45 my x-rays were completed and the hospital sent us back to the original clinic, now with all three monkeys on-hand climbing the walls and ready to be home. As the doctor rounded the corner and closed the door behind him we braced ourselves for the final results after an exhausting day of medical-room hopping (literally, for me). He leaned against the bed, cleared his throat, and locked eyes with me:
Well, you'll need to ice your whole ankle, wrap it up tightly, and take 800mg of Ibuprofin every 4-6 hours. Come back in 5 days if you're not better.
WHAT did I tell ya?
I'm, like, t o t a l l y a doctor, no?