Darn Ankle

When I was in college I took stage combat. It was amazing. My teacher pulled me aside early on to tell me he was worried about me taking the class, but he was wrong to worry. I loved doing fights because most often my opponents/scene partners got boo-ed. I was always grateful to be the aggressor in class because I knew I'd never get cast that way. I credit my success in the class to not being afraid or inexperienced at falling.

At some point near the end of the semester I went down wrong and sprained my ankle. No biggie or it wouldn't have been if I hadn't ignored it and walked on it over miles of college campus the next day. The following night they shook their hands at me in the ER and sent me home with an air splint and told me to stay off it. I must have listened because it healed.

Every so often if I really over do it or it's particularly rainy it goes out. Like no warning, no pain and then mid-step my ankle can no longer hold me. No big deal. Every now and then it quits on me once or twice in 24hrs and then it doesn't happen again for months or years.

I took little Miss shopping and walked the great big store in horrible shoes (flip flops). Oops. I know better. Afterwards, I sat down for lunch and had some swelling. I kept on trucking and by dinner time my ankle had gone out twice. No biggie, it happens. Then it happened a 3rd and 4th time. I chalked it up to a rough day. The next day after lunch it happened again. I was annoyed, but not to worried. Then at dinner time it happened again two more separate times. That's when I got worried.

That night I had nightmares. I dreamed I had to re-attach my foot to my leg with duct tape. I finally called for some medical advice and was told to stay off it. That the ligaments were stretched out and I needed to ice and elevate.

My dog taking care of my ankle.