Yesterday, as Sunshine and I were getting ready to go work some more at clearing the site for our little house, I stepped in a hole that was covered by leaves. I twisted my ankle and fell and cried.
It hurt bad enough that I actually considered asking to be taken to a doctor or hospital, but I laid there with it for a moment before I said anything. As I’m laying there, face in the dirt so Sunshine can’t see me making ugly faces while I cry, we hear a fucking cat trapped somewhere. I sent poor Sunshine to deal with the cat while I sat there with the pain; I had to promise him I wasn’t going to die if he went and freed the stupid cat real quick.
Ultimately, I was able to get up and get inside to grab one of my sock style ankle supports to put on it, and then get down the hill to help Sunshine. As far as I can tell, nothing is broken, so there probably won’t be any trips to the doctor. Fuck, all the doctor is going to do is charge me some obscene amount of money for an ace bandage, write me a scrip for some pain pills I don’t fucking want, and tell me to keep weight off of it for some set number of weeks. I have ankle support devices, I have NSAIDS, and I have flexoril for night use if needed.
I was excused from helping with the work of clearing the site for our small house, and I went inside to bake some cookies. I wasn’t ready for the holidays to end, and cookies are a nice way to keep the Christmas spirit going (especially when they have Christmas colored M&Ms in them).
Now, I’m off to go run some errands, including getting our marriage license filed so that it’s officially official.