After vowing not to whine anymore, because it made me feel like a wimp, here I am complaining. My right ankle—the one I twisted when I fell two weeks ago—was getting much better. Until the last two or three days. This morning I decided I didn’t want to wait to the weekend and have it become an emergency situation so I called the doctor’s office. I could hardly walk and was lurching around the house holding on to furniture and walls. They gave me an appt. with a PA at 2:30, saying my doctor was completely booked.
The morning was brightened because friend Carol brought a used-book dealer to look at my books, and she took 40 books, most for her business but a few for her personal reading. Carol was a great salesperson, pointing out one title after another. Carol estimates I have about 500 books left, not including the ones I wrote. Maybe books are like spaghetti or salad that grow in the bowl as you eat.
Made a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, grabbed a small glass of wine, and then a small nap before Jordan came. I told Jordan I feared the diagnosis would be “You’re clumsy” and my sweet daughter said, “Well, you are.” The woman examined the new bruise and swelling on my hand and asked if I bruise easily. I truly wanted to reply, “No, I’m clumsy.” I have no idea what I did to my hand and arm but it sure does look ugly.
Sent for x-rays. The site said two-hour wait, so I voted for waiting till tomorrow, but Jordan went in and came back to get me. Honest, we were out of there within half an hour or less, and the doctor’s office sent the report before five: small fracture of the fibula just above the ankle joint. I’ll see the doctor, not the PA, Monday morning. Meantime I’m trying to stay off my feet and using a neighbor’s walker—I’ve resisted the latter for a long time, but it really does help. I feel more secure and there’s a more even distribution of weight.
So Jordan and Jacob are here tonight, though she has gone to a birthday party at the Wine Haus down the street for an hour. Tomorrow night, Colin will be here with Morgan and Kegan so that will brighten my weekend a lot.
I don’t mean to sound like Joe Bftsplk, but it seems it’s always something. In a sense I’m relieved to know there is a diagnosis and I wasn’t just being a wimp; on the other hand, all those people who keep warning that I’ll fall and break a bone can now say, “I told you so.”