My friend Molly inspired this post.
I’ve been meaning to write it for the past 36 hours, but her post has given me the courage to go ahead and post it.
Around noon on Tuesday, I was walking out to my car to get something and I slipped. As I slipped and felt my ankle go in a direction its not supposed to my first thought was “not again”. As I sat there in the mud and the rain, I started to move both of my legs and evaluate the damage. Was my left knee okay? Yes. Was my left ankle okay? Yes.
My right leg was another story. As I moved my leg from being underneath me to straight, my first thought was that there was something wrong with me knee. A few bends, and I realized my knee was okay. My ankle was a whole different story. The shocky pain was increasing, and I could already tell that the ankle didn’t look right.
I then had to think about my left wrist, which yet again had taken the bulk of the leverage during the fall. The wrist felt okay, but the palm of my hand was a bit messed up from the rocks in the sidewalk.
While all this thinking was going on, I was also starting to realize that I wasn’t sure how I was going to get from where I was at (in the mud and the rain) and get back in to my apartment. Of course, because I was going to my apartment just for a minute I hadn’t brought my phone with me. Thankfully, someone from the manager’s office had seen me sitting in the mud and realized that something might be wrong. They sent over one of the maintenance team, who I was able to tell where one of my walkers was and he helped me make it in to my apartment.
I go to the orthopedic tomorrow to get the final declaration if its a sprain or break and decide what the next steps are as far as healing.
I live every day in a constant state of fear that this type of accident might happen. Most days are okay and I’m able to push through and do things, but any time I step down a step I worry.
Unfortunately, I took that wrong step and the fear came true.