How did I do that?

Enjoying wine and tapas with friends

 

I spent the morning answering that question to doctors, x-ray techs, and all sorts of people. My answer was always, "I haven't a clue." It seems I have broken the fifth metatarsal on my right foot--that's the long bone that leads to my little toe. I noticed Tuesday night that the side of my foot really hurt; the next day I thought I'd bruised it; the next day I thought it really looked funny, and I should check with the doctor's office. They said they wanted to see me right away, so this morning I went to the doctor's office, where they diagnosed a probable broken bone and sent me for x-rays. Off to the x-ray facility, some 20 minutes away. They confirmed the broken bone and sent me back to the doctor's office, where they sent me to the orthopod's office, only they sent me to the wrong one. A snippy young girl informed me I'd have to go to their other office. Of course, I got hopelessly lost, had to call for directions, and ended up driving on a major highway which I avoid if at all possible. The doctor was pleasant--knew my brother--and said, "How did you do this?" He fitted me with an orthopedic shoe for my right foot, which I am to wear for six weeks. Not a fashion statement, and I had just bought such cute snow boots. Actually though the foot feels better in the shoe, and it's not too hard to get around in. But I was gone from 8:45 until 1:00 and was hungry, tired and frustrated when I got home.
As for how I did it, I really don't know. It's entirely possible I bumped into something, stubbed my toe hard, twisted my foot wrong. I am not the world's most graceful person, but I don't remember anything specific that caused me instant pain. I suspect it may be a spontaneous or stress fracture--no, it has nothing to do with emotional stress.
Tonight all the trauma of my morning melted away with an evening with good friends at The Wine Haus--we chatted, drank wine, and ordered tapas. I was extravagant and ordered the lamb chop small plate--so good! Had a lovely time in an informal, lively atmosphere, with a gorgeous Great Dane wandering around.
I'm going on a blog vacation. With the craze for new words--like Icemageddon--I wonder if you'd call it a blogacation. At any rate, I probably won't post again until close to the New Year, unless something burns in my mind and has to be said. I'll have my whole family around me, which makes concentration hard, and I probably need to clear my brain by cooking and reading with grandchildren and doing all that kind of thing. Maybe I'll have fresh new thoughts when I start blogging again--we can all hope.
Meantime, to all of you who follow my blog, I wish you a blessed Christmas and a bountiful new year. I wish I could hug each and every one of you, but please let my very best wishes suffice.